By the Wayside
by devonshire64
Summary: Everything is not as it seems. with urban legends out of control and a powerful demon on the loose, the boys find themselves up against more then just the supernatural.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: i hope i did this right. i just edited this chapter a little. same thing, just cleaned it up a bit, i just hope i am reposting it right. **

A/N: hello everyone, i am back again. if you havnt read my first story Shadow Stalker, you may be a little confused. you dont have to read it, though i recommend you do becuase it will be mentioned throughout. this isnt so much a sequel, but another "episode". i think my brain as decided to write its own season. lol. i hope you will all like this as much as the last. i think it will be a little lighter then Shadow Stalker, but i will throw in some angst for good measure. enjoy.

i am listing it as general, because i am only allow to pick two catagories and that isnt enough for me. :)

Disclaimer: i'm off on a Winchester hunt.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 1

The black car tore down the dusty road, gravel flying up as the tires ate the asphalt beneath. The rumble of the engine broke through the pre-dawn silence, cutting the air with its throaty growl. Behind the wheel Sam Winchester stared out at the darkening road, his mind miles away from the lonely strip of land. The almost forgotten road stretched out before him, calling to him, beckoning him forward into comfortable oblivion. His mind called to the darkness, welcomed the void; needed to rest, to fall away. The hunt had been hard, and unusual. They had been on the trail of a revenant, a tip Dean had found in the local paper. Everything had seemed normal, that was, until they arrived at its hunting grounds.

They had done their research, gone in prepared for once, or so they thought. Two son's had killed their abusive father, and in a sudden fear driven frenzy had decided to try and resurrect the man, hoping the town would be none the wiser. It was stupid, dangerous and flat-out insane, '_the dead should stay buried,'_ but still an everyday revenant. That was, until the brothers walked into a bad version of Dawn of the Dead. They could tell from the first encounter that something was very wrong. Revenants were usually very lifelike, more so then the average movie monster. They spoke clearly, walked normally, albeit slowly, and except for their empty eyes and absent heartbeat, they were more or less human. This, however was far from any other revenant the boys had seen. And it only grew stranger when the thing told Dean it wanted his brain.

The entire hunt just seemed surreal. The monster more fiction then reality, the boys having to resort to chopping its head off when it didn't stay reburied like it should have. But, not one to look fate in the eye, Dean had taken its death for what it was and decided to move on. After all, they had only gone up against a revenant once before, perhaps the rules were different for everyone. Sam, however, couldn't shake the strong feeling that something was very wrong, that they were missing something important. He didn't know if it was stress, their lack of experience with this type of monster, or something else entirely. All he knew was that something was eating away at him, there was some piece of the puzzle that they were missing.

It had been nearly five months since they had been lured into the shadow forest, driven down Shadow Pine Highway. Five long months since Dean was thrown over a cliff by the wind. Five months of recovery, of changed priorities. For a while no one was even sure that Dean would be able to hunt again, his knee badly damaged in the ordeal, his future almost wiped clean by one act of vengeance. Even now, every time Sam thought of what Joshua had done, what their trusted friends had cost his brother, he could feel a deep, unbridled anger growing almost unchecked inside him. A life was lost in that forest, a man was taken from this world by a demon, and while the image of Joshua melting would be forever engraved in his brain, a very small part of Sam did not feel remorse. Yes a human life was gone, but if it was a choice between Joshua or his brother, Dean would win every time.

"What did my car ever do to you?"

"Huh?" Sam snapped out of his inner tirade, looking over to Dean.

He was sitting in the passenger seat, papers strewn across his lap, searching for their next gig. He had been unable to hunt for four months, something he had never thought possible. He had spent that time working on his knee, learning to adapt to the injury, strengthening the rest of his body to favor it, protect it. But four months was a very long time for Dean Winchester to sit still, and now that he was back out in the world, he was going to make up for lost time.

"You look like you're trying to strangle the steering wheel."

"Oh, sorry." Sam loosened his death grip on the wheel, still staring down the long, empty road in front of him, a cold breeze blowing momentarily, almost unnoticed through the car. He unconsciously pulled his jacket tighter, looking up into the rearview mirror, gray eyes staring back. He blinked quickly, his brown eyes shinning, shaking his head. '_Man I am tired.'_

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Bull."

"Dean, there's nothing wrong with me. I'm just thinking."

"Well, that's never a good thing."

"Whatever, dude."

"Don't whatever me, Sam, the cows in the field could take one look at you and know something was wrong. Now spill."

"You don't think this whole thing was strange?"

"What whole thing?"

"The revenant, it didn't really follow the rules."

"How do you know, the only other one we put away was that chick. Maybe it works different for everyone, maybe they used different rituals. Who the hell knows."

"Well, we should, seeing as how it's our job."

"Funny, smart ass."

"Look, Dean, all I'm saying is that something isn't right. And it's not just this hunt. Remember the black dog two weeks ago?"

"You mean the one that almost ripped your arm off, vaguely."

"Yeah well, last I checked black dogs were more like spirits, described as a mastiff with glowing red eyes, not Cujo."

"Well, maybe it was a different kind."

"Dean, we've been fighting Stephen King characters."

"No, your geek boy brain has been reading too many books. I told you those thing were bad for you."

"You know what, fine."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"So." Dean began after a long silence, desperate to change the subject. Sam was right, something was off with the last two hunts, he had seen it too. They were too much like the legends people told around the campfire, too much like the urban tales they had originated from. Yes everything had some basis in reality, some starting point, it was just that reality rarely followed the stories word for word. It seemed almost like their jobs had jumped out of someone's imagination. The only thing he needed now was a big dopy great dane as a sidekick.

"Why are you smirking at me like that?" Sam looked over at his brother, slightly unnerved at the private joke Dean was having with himself.

"Oh nothing, scooby."

"What?"

"I've been looking for our next gig, think I found something. A Hodag sighting."

"Dean, be serious, those things don't exist."

"How do you know? We thought vampires didn't exist and look where that got us."

"Dean, have you ever read about those things. It's said that they evolved to have longer legs on one side then the other."

"Yeah, to help them walk on steep hills."

"You do know that that only works in one direction."

"Well, makes them easier to catch now, doesn't it."

"Are you serious?"

"Why the hell not. Says here that the thing is huge, been mauling people all along a hiking trail."

"Has it killed anyone?"

"Not yet, and I plan on keeping it that way."

"Fine, but I'm not driving all the way there tonight."

"Cheap motel it is. Besides, I'm starving."

About forty minutes later the boys came across a decent looking truck stop motel. Dean waited in the car while Sam went to check them in, his knee still bothering him. He had made a remarkable recovery, having worked his leg back up to eighty percent mobility, and while it would never be as strong as it was before, he was just glad he could still walk. The Asura had done a number on him, and knife-welding Joshua hadn't been much help either.

The ordeal in the forest still haunted him, still woke him in the night, body trembling, mind reeling. It was almost as though he could feel the shadow in the room, sense it reaching for him, calling to him. He knew it was destroyed, sent back to the hell it had come from, or at least he hoped that was the case. Their father had returned to the forest shortly after his son had been released from the hospital, intent on salting and burning Joshua's remains. He hadn't faced a single problem, not even the smallest patch of fog, and as far as they were concerned they were through with the demon.

But that did little to ease Dean's nightmares, to rid his mind of the experience, erase the torture, the fear. It wasn't death that had scared him, no he had faced that more times then he could count. It was the truth, the emotions, the reality of his family that had him rattled. He had heard the shadow when it spoke to his brother, heard it voice Sam's true feelings, learned how he really felt, why he really left him. And it tore his soul to shreds. His brother was all he had, everything he was, and he was terrified that the shadow was right, that given the opportunity Sam would again leave him behind.

"Earth to, Dean."

"Huh?" Dean looked up to see Sam climbing into the driver's seat of the impala, Dean still unable to drive long distances.

"There's a dinner across the street, do you want to eat in or do take away?"

"Um, take away."

"All right." Sam drove around the building to their room, helping unpack the car while Dean walked in, his limp barely noticeable. Sam was amazed at how quickly his brother had bounced back from the injury, how strongly the older man fought to be himself again, be normal again. He truly did admire him. Dean was the strongest person he knew, and Sam wasn't even sure that death could keep the middle Winchester down.

"Burgers all around?" Sam asked, pocketing the motel keys.

"Yeah, with fries and soda."

"All right, be back in a few."

Dean settled himself on the bed, pulling his brother's laptop out and turning it on, the screen flickering to life. Over the past few months he had taken over the role of geek boy, and he hated it. He found researching boring, and much less effective then guns blazing. What good is knowing the inner workings of some spook's life? Salt and burn, as easy as pie. He continued to surf the Internet, searching for any new information about the supposed Hodag. He laughed quietly to himself, his mind picturing a herd of animals stuck running the same direction along the side of a steep hill, two short legs and two long. It really was an amusing picture.

As he scrolled through link after link, trying to learn all he could about the strange, and probably fake animal he found a web page he hoped he would never see again.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Sam asked, caring in two large bags of food, setting them down on the table in the kitchenette.

"I was doing some research about the Hodag."

"And you realized how absurd that animal is?"

"Yes, but that's not the kicker. Apparently your favorite site has plenty of info on the little suckers."

"And what site would that be?" Sam asked, laying out the food as Dean put down the computer, it's screen facing the room and made his way to the table.

"Hell hounds lair dot com." Dean smirked, clicking the link.

"Oh, god. That stupid thing? Those two need to give it a rest."

"I'm surprised a real ghost hasn't shoved them down a well yet."

"I'm surprised a real person hasn't shoved them down a well yet."

"Too true." Dean shrugged sitting at the table.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked a few minutes later, something on the computer screen catching his eye.

"Yeah?"

"How well did you look over that site?"

"I didn't, I just clicked on it for fun. Why?"

"Because, I think the Hodag is the least of our worries." Sam walked over and picked up the laptop, bringing it to the table. Dean stared in horror at the video streaming across the screen, his green eyes growing wider with each passing minute.

"Sam, that's us."

"I know."

"And that's the revenant."

"Exactly."

"We're on the Internet fighting a zombie."

"Yup, for the whole world to see."

TBC

A/N2: the stephen king refrence goes for both hunts. Cujo was a story of a killer St. Bernard and the idea of the son's killing their dad by accident came from the second pet semetary movie.

Hodags are a real part of american folklore as well, i did not make them up. they are from wisconsin. i love american folklore, i always have. i grew up hiking and camping, and used to go ghost hunting as a kid (it is alot of fun if you ever get the chance). i am hoping to have alot of the campfire stories i grew to love in this story, hope you all like it.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: ok, here is chapter 2. i didnt get many reviews for the first chapter, i hope you are liking it. let me know.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 2

"Maybe it's some kind of computer image."

"Nope, I'm pretty sure that's us."

"And why is that?"

"Because, there you are hobbling away, and... There you are getting clothes lined by the bad guy." Sam stated evenly, still staring at the computer screen.

"Shut up."

"How the hell did they know we were there?"

"Maybe it's not them, maybe someone taped it and sent it in."

"Maybe."

"You don't sound all that convinced."

"Look, these guys are in it for the fame. I don't know if they would post a video someone else sent."

"They posted that stupid story we told them about Mordechai."

"Yeah, I guess. But who else could have taken the video?"

"Locals."

"I don't know Dean. Something just seems off about it." Sam continued, still searching through the web site. Dean shrugged and turned back to his burger, his stomach growling as he smothered it in ketchup, still eyeing Sam cautiously as he ate. There was something wrong, very wrong. They had made it their life to stay below the radar, fade away, ride in and out of town in one breath, never staying long enough to be remembered. They needed their secrecy, their distance, needed it to stay safe, stay alive. And here they were, on the Internet for all to see. He just hoped that no one of importance would come across it.

He turned abruptly when he heard his brother swear loudly as he searched the web site, his eyes narrowing, features growing dark. Dean could have sworn he felt a cold breeze run through him, wrap around him, try to dig into him. He shuttered quickly, dislodging the feeling before addressing Sam, his brown eyes still staring intently at the screen.

"What! What is it?"

Sam said nothing, just spun the computer around violently, Dean having to catch it before it fell from the table, and pushed the chair out, pacing the room, his face shinning with anger. And one look at the screen gave Dean all the answers he needed. There, playing out before him, was his real life nightmare.

He watched as the killer dog lunged at Sam, pulling him to the ground, its sharp teeth digging deeply into his arm. Dean quickly looked away, the memory of the night was more then enough, he didn't need to see it again. His stomach churned as he ended the video, his face set with disbelief. Why would anyone watch that, why would anyone want to see someone else get hurt, almost killed by a monster, his brother nearly ripped to shreds. He saw it everyday, fought it everyday since he was a young child. It wasn't cool to him, wasn't some amazing experience, some interesting past time, it was real. It was life and death, it was anger, murder, suicide, and everything else that made good souls evil. It wasn't Hollywood fiction, wasn't something you could always walk away from. It was his life, and not by choice.

"I don't think it's a local." Sam said sarcastically, still pacing the room.

"Yeah, well. Now I'm pretty damn sure it's the Hell Hounds."

"We've got to find them."

"And how do you expect to do that. Look, I want to kick their scrawny little asses just as much as you, but we still have that Hodag to go after."

"Dean, give it a rest..." Sam began, instantly stopping and turning towards his brother. "Dean."

"Yeah."

"That's it."

"Care to clue me in."

"The killer dog, the movie zombie, Hodags!"

"Keep going."

"Dean, think. They're not normal, at least, not reality normal, they're more like stories."

"Still lost."

"The Hell Hounds. They're doing it, setting it up somehow. That's how they're getting the videos."

"Come on, Sam. That's a stretch, even for us."

"Yeah, and what about Mordechai. That wasn't your usual, everyday hunt either."

"Yeah, but that was an accident. They had that symbol on the site without even knowing what it was."

"Maybe now, they know."

"Sam, listen to yourself. You've gone off the deep end."

A sudden wind pierced the room, gone again in the blink of an eye, leaving Dean wondering if he had even felt it. He looked long and hard at his brother, Sam still pacing the room, his long strides carrying him quickly across the small space, his eyes hidden behind a mop of hair. There was something different about him, something off. He was angrier, almost darker in a way, his mood swinging, and it wasn't like Sam. Yes he was moody, almost like a little girl sometimes, but this was different, something Dean could almost feel.

"Have you been feeling ok?"

"Excuse me?" Sam stopped his pacing and turned to Dean, confusion and frustration evident on his face.

"No weird spidy senses, no new powers?"

"Dean, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I don't know, you've been a little off lately."

"And that should have something to do with my abilities, why?"

"I don't know, I've just noticed."

Sam let out a long sigh, his face falling slightly as he looked at his brother. "Sorry, man, I've just been tired lately. And this." He said, gesturing to the computer. "Isn't helping."

"Want to talk about it?"

Sam froze and stared at Dean, his brother leaning back in the chair, his demeanor calm and collective. "All right. What have you done with Dean?"

"Ha ha ha. Look, dude, I'm just worried, is all."

"And you want to talk about it?"

"As long as you don't try and pull any of that mushy, Dr. Phil crap on me."

Sam moved slowly back to the table, sitting in the chair opposite his brother, his head bowed, eyes searching the floor. "Joshua."

"What?"

"Joshua. I trusted him, Dean."

"Hey, we all did. Don't blame yourself for that."

"I don't. That's not what's bothering me."

"Then what is?"

"Aren't you afraid, Dean?"

"Afraid of what?"

"Who else might turn on us. I mean, we'll have no way of knowing. These people can just mess with our lives and we don't have any way to stop them."

"That's not true."

"Dean, Joshua called with directions, that's all. I mean, if Dad wasn't having us followed, no one ever would have found us."

"But Dad was there."

"And what if one day he isn't. What if something happens to him?"

"It won't."

"Dean."

"No, Sam. Nothing is going to happen to you, or Dad. I'll make sure of it."

"Dean. You and Dad, you almost died when we got hit by that truck. I mean, what if you did, where would I be? Who would I trust?"

"Sam." Dean moved forward, leaning across the small table to where his younger brother sat. Sam's words digging deep into his soul, freezing his heart mid beat. '_What would happen to Sam if he was all alone.'_ "I swear, I will never let that happen."

"What if you die?"

"Then anyone that messes with you is gonna have one handsome as hell ghost to run from."

Sam looked up and smiled at his brother, Dean's voice soothing, his determination ringing through. He made Sam feel safe, and he always had. There was nothing Dean wouldn't fight, no moment he would waste for him, and that terrified and comforted him. He needed Dean, needed him to say it would all be ok, that he would keep the ever encroaching darkness at bay. The episode with Joshua had terrified the younger Winchester, shaken the very foundation of everything he knew, everything his life was based on.

Their hunting community had been the only extended family Sam had ever known. It was small, and there were many people he had never met, but they were still there, still trustworthy, still friends. Now he just didn't know. Joshua had been one of their closest allies, one of the few people John had left them with. And he had turned on them, sold them to the Asura, nearly killed Dean with his own hand. How many others would do the same, how many 'friends' would they have to fight? And, if worse came to worse, how could he do it without his brother.

"You ok, Sam?"

"Yeah, thanks Dean."

"No problem. Now, about the Hodags."

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Sam walked quietly through the northern Wisconsin forest, the cold February air biting at the back of his neck, a layer of snow crunching beneath his feet. He swept the light back and forth across the dark forest paths, his keen senses taking in all that was around him, sharp eyes seeing even through the blanketing darkness. A cold wind blew through the trees, the sounds of the night echoing around him, circling him, taunting him.

They had done as much research as possible, but when two more hikers were hospitalized, telling stories of a boar the size of a small car with black fur and horns, they decided it was time to take action. The Hell Hound's web site had actually been very helpful, giving the boys some kind of clue as to what they were up against. They basically had to kill the thing with consecrated iron round. So their plan was simple, find the Hodag, shoot the Hodag, find a bar, leave a legend to the locals. At least, that was Dean's plan.

The hike up to the area had been long, the trails isolated, almost forgotten in the thick forest. They had see no tracks, no broken branches, no sign of an animal the size of the Hodag. Sam let out a long, loud sigh as he swept the light back to the trail before him, his mind racing, searching the area for more then just the elusive creature. He was also looking for the Hell Hounds, for any sound from them, any sign of a camera. He needed to stop them, the find them, if not for themselves then for the innocent people they were hurting.

The black dog had killed a man, an old trapper that had crossed its path. The revenant had sent one of its former sons to the hospital, leaving the teenager near death. And the Hodag had mauled several hikers, all thankfully recovering from their ordeals. No, Ed and Harry had gone too far this time, taken their quest for fame over that invisible line, past a point they should never have neared. They were playing with people's lives, placing Sam and his brother in danger for some stupid video, for their elusive book and movie deal. The Winchester brothers had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to have it all ruined, all belittled by amateur film makers. He had to find them, and he had to stop them.

"Yo, Sam. Anything?" Dean called to his brother, having taken a path slightly higher up the mountain then Sam, his pistol held tightly in one hand, light in the other. It was taking him a lot to keep up with his brother, his limp slowing him slightly, his strides falling shorter since the injury. But he didn't complain, didn't grunt, didn't even flinch, he just accepted things the way they were and moved on. He didn't even make up some story about it, didn't even try to impress the girls with his battle scars. '_It was nothing.' _He would tell them, and that would have to do.

"Nope, still nothing."

"Maybe their short little legs are taking them in the other direction."

"Dean." Sam began, turning the light in his brother's direction, almost seeing the other man's smirk through the darkness. "Focus. Its a Black Hodag, not the Sidehill one."

"Oh, right. It's the big, nasty, mean one, not the stupid, easy to catch one."

"Apparently."

"What's the one that you have to get drunk before you catch it?"

"A jackolope."

"Oh right. 'There he goes, that way.'"

"Dean, stop messing around."

"I can't help it, that was one of the funniest things I ever read."

"Yeah, well. If you don't pay attention there's gonna be another video of you being attacked by a fictional creature."

"Whatever, bitch."

"Jerk."

The boys suddenly froze, both tensing, hunting instincts taking over, both lights turned forward, the low, ominous growl coming from just beyond their fields of vision. Dean began to move slowly down the embankment that was separating him from his brother, his pistol raised to the direction of the beast. The leaves suddenly rustled to his left, his body turning swiftly as the large animal rushed him, Dean diving out of the way just in time.

"Sammy, watch it." He yelled, climbing quickly to his feet, the sound of gunfire spurring him on. Sam unloaded three round into the back of the beast, the Hodag not even slowing as it continued on its path to the youngest Winchester. "Sam!" He called again, half stumbling, half running down the side of the hill, his green eyes searching for Sam.

"I'm over here." He heard his brother's voice floating up from the dense underbrush which lined the sides of the trails. Dean had to stifle a laugh as Sam pulled himself up from the bushes, his face scratched, arms a muddy mess.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine."

"Did you see where it went?"

"No, but I think there are two of them."

"Yeah, I gathered that."

"Dude, I shot it three times, it didn't even slow the thing down."

"Wonderful. Didn't the site say iron rounds would kill it."

"Yeah."

"Well, someone here is lying, because they didn't do squat."

"Maybe the Hell Hounds were wrong."

"This is no time for maybe, Sam. We gotta kill them now."

"Yeah, I get that." Sam looked past his brother, a set of glowing green eyes suddenly emerging from the tree line behind him, a black bulk moving at surprising speed. "Dean, down!"

Before Dean could react Sam jumped at him, the two falling to the ground hard, Dean's gun falling from his grasp, sliding across the desolate path. He watched in horror as the giant boar flew over them, its immense body blocking out the sky above, before it hit the ground with a thud, skidding to a halt and turning towards the brothers.

"God damn agile, fake pig, thing." Dean grumbled as he moved out from under Sam, searching the ground for his pistol. He spotted it no more then ten meters away, the green glowing eyes of the second Hodag a mere fifteen meters past it. He looked between the two beasts, the jumping one eyeing Sam intently as the other stared down Dean and the gun. "These things aren't nearly as entertaining as the other ones."

"Dean, don't do what I think you're going to do."

"On three, Sam."

"Dean."

"One... Two."

"Dean!"

"Two and a half."

"Dean!"

"Three."

"Damn it." The two boys suddenly darted forward, Dean towards his fallen gun, Sam covering him as the two Hodags also advanced, each one taking a brother. The larger of the two lunged at Sam, knocking him back into the underbrush, his tall body falling hard into the snow. He rolled quickly to the side as the beast pounced again, intent on ripping the younger man to shreds. Dean had managed to reach his gun just as the smaller Hodag reached him, its speared tail swinging around, slicing Dean's face, mere centimeters from his right eye.

"Son of a bitch." He cursed as the thing pounced on him again. Dean raised his right arm, trying to protect his face as the Hodag snarled, lowering its horned head, weapons in line with Dean's shoulders. He raised his gun quickly, firing four bullets into its belly before the animal even had a chance to flinch, its heavy body falling limp on Dean, knocking the air from his lungs.

"Aw, damn it." He breathed, struggling beneath the dead animal's immense weight. "Sammy," He shouted, still working his way out from under it. "Shoot its stomach."

"Easier said then done, Dean." Sam yelled back as he dodged the Hodag once again, its rage seeming to intensify tenfold since the death of its mate. It stared down at Sam, snarling loudly before it charged him once again, head turned down, horns in line with his stomach. Sam rolled away from the beast, the edge of his jacket catching the animal's horns, snapping its head back, its green eyes staring hungrily at Sam. He quickly pulled himself up to his knees, his back leaning against a large boulder, trapping him between the rocks and the Hodag.

Sam scrambled for his gun as the beast's front legs rose high, the animal aiming at his skull. It all happened in an instant, the wind howled then died, the beast shuddered, and the gun shots rang out, the forest suddenly cloaked in an instant, eerie silence.

"Sam." Dean ran over to his brother, the younger man pinned between the rock and the dead animal, his face and half his body completely obscured by the Hodag's girth. "Sam, are you ok?"

"Yeah." He wheezed, struggling beneath the animal. "Just get this smelly thing the hell off me."

Dean wasted no time pulling the Hodag off his little brother, Sam taking in long, grateful breaths once his body was free of the dead weight. "Well, that was unpleasant." Dean added, sitting next to his brother, kicking the beast for good measure.

"I told you I didn't want to hunt a Hodag."

"Yeah, well. Next time we hunt the small, stupid kind."

"Noted."

"You sure you're ok?"

"Yeah, just a headache. Probably the smell."

"Yeah, lets blow this freak show."

"Aren't we gonna bury them?"

"Locals are gonna need something to talk about. Come on, first rounds on you."

"Thanks."

"Oh, don't mention it."

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"Oh, there's my baby." Dean smiled as they made their way back to the car, the hike out of the forest having been much more enjoyable then the hike in. A successful hunt was like a drug to Dean, like a natural high. He knew he did good, saved someone, cleaned the world up a little and that made him feel freer, lighter. In the short time right after a good hunt Dean's burdens all seemed lifted, his shoulders straightening after a weight was lifted from them. He wasn't tired, wasn't somber, he was alive, he was strong.

"What the..." His euphoria suddenly evaporated when he got a good look at the car, all four tires laying flat beneath his black baby.

"It looks like they've been slashed."

"Where the hell are you you little cowards!" Dean yelled into the night, his eyes shinning with a fierce intensity. But no sound, not even the wind answered him back.

"They're probably long gone."

"When I find them I'm gonna kick their butts so hard they'll be eating through their asses."

"That would shut the site down."

"This isn't funny Sam. They messed with metallicar."

"You named it."

"Shut up."

"Just call for a tow."

"Yeah!" Dean screamed to the silent night again. "I'm gonna call for a tow, then I'm gonna kick some Hell Hound ass!" He fished out his cell phone, flicking it open, pushing the numbers a little harder then necessary.

"Come on." He complained, pacing his car, searching for any other damages. "Hello. Yeah, I need a tow. I'm on 17 about two hours north of Rhinelander. What! Tomorrow. I don't give a crap how late it is. Yeah, nice talking to you too." Dean added sarcastically as he slammed the phone shut. "Jerk."

"They aren't coming till tomorrow? It's only midnight."

Dean just through his arms in the air and shrugged, leaning back against his car, Sam leaning beside him.

"I hate sleeping in the car."

"You and me both. Worst part is that I'm wide awake and suddenly very bored." Dean grumbled as he kicked at the snow.

"We could always go snipe hunting." Sam stated evenly, a smile growing across his young face.

"Dude, that isn't funny."

"Oh, Dean, man, you looked for hours."

"Yeah, I was out there freezing my ass off and you and Dad were laughing from the car."

"I still can't believe you spent four hours looking for one."

"Shut up." But Dean too was starting to smile, the memory from his childhood lightening the mood, Sam's laughter a refreshing sound.

"Oh, by the way. Did you ever find that left handed screwdriver Dad was looking for?"

"You wonder why I put Nair in your shampoo. Is it my fault I was a gullible child?"

"You were beyond gullible, Dean."

"Yeah, well, Dad was just good at sounding serious."

"True." Sam laughed as he looked down at the ground, his memory falling back, mind searching through his youth. In truth it wasn't all that bad, he had a lot of happy memories, a lot of cherished moments. They may have been bogged down with the bad, but they were still there, still shining through, still making him laugh. And he suddenly felt very guilty about leaving it behind so abruptly, finally seeing what it was that Dean held on to so dearly.

Sam sighed and looked back up into the dark forest, he and his brother still leaning against the hood of the car, both men enjoying the relaxing moment. As he continued to stare deeply into the darkness, something caught his eye. A small flash a light, almost like a flashlight was bobbing and weaving its way deeper into the forest, the light shining both high and low.

"Hello." Sam called into the night, pushing off the car and heading back towards the trail.

"Sam?"

"Do you see that, that light?"

"What light?" Dean was instantly at his brother's side, his green eyes staring intensely at the forest, searching the darkness for the mysterious light. "No, where is it?"

"It went that way." Sam stated, moving quickly into the forest, his long strides carrying his swiftly down the trail, Dean falling behind.

"Hey, slow down." Dean began to jog to keep up with his brother, but Sam was a man on a mission, moving unchecked through the deep forest.

"It doesn't look like a flashlight, it's too erratic."

"Well, then what the hell is it, and why can't I see it?"

"I don't know."

"Then stop chasing it."

"Every time I stop, it stops. I think it wants me to follow it."

"Well don't, use your brain, college boy."

"I think it a will-o-the wisp."

"A what?"

"Just follow me. I think it might be something else the Hell Hounds started."

"Dude, stop moving so freaking fast." Dean was shouting to his brother, Sam now a good fifteen meters ahead of him. He was just getting ready to call him back when he heard a sharp cry, followed quickly by a loud splash. Dean broke into a run, his mind frantic, heart racing.

"SAM! Sam, where are you?" Dean rounded a corner and saw the small ball of light floating serenely at the edge of a fast flowing river, his brother nowhere to be see. It hung there for a few moments, as if staring at Dean, before winking out, sending the forest back into deep darkness.

"DEAN! HELP!"

Dean turned at the sounds of his brother's frantic voice, the strange light all but forgotten as he ran along the banks, searching for Sam. "Hey, hold on." Sam was hanging loosly from a large branch, his arms wrapped around the limb, his lanky frame bucked by the swift moving water.

"Dean, I can't."

"Don't you even think about letting go." Dean stated firmly as he began to slide his way along the log, reaching for his brother, the icy water soaking him through. Just as he grabbed Sam's damp wrist he felt the log dip forward, a sickening crack slicing through the still night. Both brother's locked eyes, deep brown staring into pale green as the branch gave way, sending both into the icy torrents.

TBC

yes, i know, they are in a forest again. dont worry, it wont be for too long.

info time. snipes are real animals, though many think they are fake, however, snipe hunting is a pratical joke, usually played on a new camper. you think up some stupid way to catch the things then take the person on a hunt, making them try to catch it.

also the phrase 'there he goes. that way.' is what a jackolope is supposed to yell to get a hunter off his trail. also, if you want to catch one leave a flask of whiskey on the porch. it will drink it, and then be too drunk to get away.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: hello all. thank you all again for the reviews, they are very helpful. i dont really write the next chapter till i see what everyone has to say about the last, so let me know what you like, it spurs on my writing. also, for timeline purposes: my first stroy took place about 6 months after the season 1 finale, and this takes place 5 months from then. so really, time wise, it would fall around the beginning of the third season. i havnt read spoilers so that wont effect it, that is just how far ahead my stories are.

well, on with the show.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 3

Dean struggled hard against the icy water, the river freezing his body as he continued to hold Sam's wrist, all his strength diverted to the task. He could feel his brother being pulled from him, the river driving itself between the two, trying to pull them apart. He couldn't let go, he wouldn't, there was no way he was going to let Sam be lured to his death by the Hell Hounds. He had lost too much, sacrificed too much to the people they helped, the strangers they crossed in their lonely travels, and he would not lose Sam, he would not sacrifice the only thing he had left, the most important thing in his life. He would board himself in a secluded cabin, or battle every evil in the world if that was what it took to keep his little brother safe. And nothing would stop him.

He continued to fight, the cold seeping into his body, taking over his mind. He could feel himself growing tired, his numb limbs fighting for movement, eyelids growing heavy in the overwhelming darkness. Just as he felt his deprived lungs begin to burn he was pushed up by the current, his head breaking the surface of the water, air filling his starved lungs. He pulled hard on his brother's arm, his larger frame being pulled deeper into the water, farther away into the icy abyss. After a few seconds he heard the younger man gasp as the precious oxygen filled his empty body, the sound like music to his ears, a triumphant whisper above the deafening roar of the water. He pulled Sam closer to him as he continued to struggle, wrapping his arm around his brother's waist as both the younger man's weight and the current pushed Dean down once more.

Sam gasped and coughed as Dean drug him to the surface, the cold air stinging his lungs, shocking his waning body, biting at his wet skin. He kicked hard as he fought to stay above water, his brother's arm pulling him closer, holding him above the torrent. He could feel the current washing over him, threatening to push him down, splashing across his tired face. He knew Dean was holding him above the water, sacrificing himself to keep him safe, keep him breathing, giving up everything for him. He twisted and pulled, fighting his way out of his older brother's strong grasp, trying to pull him to the surface, needing to help him.

All his life Dean had given everything for him, laid down his own life more often then he could count, and he did it all without hesitation, without question. To Dean, saving Sammy was what he was, it was his purpose. But it was a sacrifice Sam knew he couldn't live with. The idea of Dean dying for him ate away at him everyday, drove itself into his nightmares, instilled itself deep in his soul. He needed him, relied upon him, cherished him, and he would not let him go without a fight. Dean was too important, too needed, and Sam would not let himself be what destroyed him, would not be the one responsible for taking Dean away from a world that desperately needed him. He was a light in the darkness for too many, his life was just too important to be extinguished.

Sam could feel the icy waters beginning to slow as the river widened around them, the rapids that had been threatening to pull them under dying away with the growing space. The darkness of the night was complete, all encompassing, a heavy blanket surrounding the boys, blocking out the dangers that may lay ahead, cloaking the river in deep shadows. Sam shifted and pulled, Dean's head finally breaking the surface, the older man gasping and coughing as he breathed in both water and air. Sam swam free of his grasp, grabbing his brother by the shoulder as the two made their way to the banks, the current still pulling them down stream, though they were able to keep themselves above the flow, Sam only hoping that they would get to shore before they were pulled into another set of rapids.

"You ok?" Sam asked weakly, still coughing as he and Dean pulled themselves onto the banks, their cold and wet bodies laying in the mud and snow. Sam slowly began to push himself to his feet, reaching down to help his older brother, Dean still gasping and coughing. He knew they had to keep moving, had to make it back to the car as soon as possible, get themselves dry as quickly as they could. Sam looked long and hard at the area around them, he had no idea how far the river had taken them, how far he had run before the light tricked him, he wasn't even sure what direction the car was in. He just hoped that neither of them would freeze to death before morning.

"Am I ok? Are you ok?"

"Yeah. Do you know which way the car is?"

"Yeah, I remember the river from the map, it isn't too far off the trails we were on earlier."

"Good. By the way, what the hell was that back there!"

"That was your stupid ass falling in a river. I told you not to follow the damn light." Dean began angrily, looking over at his brother, his concern ebbing away when he saw that the younger man was fine. The two began to slowly make their way through the forest, quickly coming across the paths they had taken earlier, the trails snow covered, but easily passable.

"No, what the hell were you doing, drowning yourself?"

"You're welcome, next time I'll just let you sink."

"You're not gonna be much help to me at the bottom of a river. Just give a little thought to yourself. All right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. Look man, this is what I was talking about at the motel. You say you'll be there to help me, then you go and pull some stupid, hero of the month stunt."

"You know what, screw you, Sam. Why do you always have to be such a selfish bastard? I was trying to help. But don't worry, it won't happen again." Dean nearly shouted as he turned, stalking back in the direction of the car, subconsciously pulling his wet jacket tighter, trying to fight off the cold. He was hurt, stunned by what Sam had said, by how he was acting. But he would not let it show, he would be strong, a soldier, the man he was trained to be. He couldn't let his guard down, not after everything he had been through.

The Demon was waiting for them, hunting them, exploiting their weaknesses and shortcomings. He had let his guard down before, once in Chicago and Meg almost killed them, again in Jefferson and the Demon nearly destroyed his entire family. And again he let his guard down in the Washington woods, nearly losing Sam to a power hungry Asura. No, he wouldn't show his emotions, he wouldn't put Sam at risk, wouldn't give the Demon another opportunity to hurt him. Sam was his responsibility, hell, the entire Winchester family was his responsibility, and he would be damned if he would let anything happen to them again.

"Dean." Sam called to his brother's retreating back, his tall silhouette swallowed by the moon less night, the older man not even flinching at the sound of his name. A wave of guilt crashed over the young hunter, making him reel, his mind suddenly on fire. Dean had just saved his life, again, and what did he do, screamed at him for it. '_Nice going, Sam!'_ He had been trying so hard over the last two years, trying to make their relationship work, to fix what he had selfishly destroyed so many years before. He didn't know why he was so angry, why he said what he had said, why his worry had turned on him. He couldn't help himself, over the past few month his emotions had been simmering right below the surface, the slightest trigger setting him off. It was like everything he though just came spilling from his mouth, every fear trying to drive him over the edge, every incident eating away at his soul. And he didn't know how much longer he or Dean could stand it.

He slowly followed after his brother, giving Dean the space he needed, the space he was often lost to. In the grad scheme of things Dean was easily overlooked, easily taken for granted. He had always been there for Sam, had always been trusted, always been reliable. Even when he was at school he had no doubt in his mind that had he called Dean, the older man would not hesitate to answer. Sam berated himself as he shuffled along, purposefully shortening his strides, knowing that he could catch up to Dean easily, his guilt digging into him once more, cutting through him sharper then any knife.

'_His knee.'_ Sam's mind immediately wandered back to the night he and his brother had been lured into the forest, the night his brother disappeared from right beside the car. He had slept through his disappearance, sent Dean out alone without a light then left him. He cringed every time his mind drifted back to that day, his heart racing, senses numbing. What Dean must have been through in those first twenty four hours, severely injured and alone, a demented shadow feeding off of him, a cold fog freezing him. It had been his fault then as well, his quick temper that had forced Dean from the car, his reckless actions that had driven Dean into the night. Sam knew that his brother's mind was still plagued with nightmares, body still hindered by injures. He had watched Dean retrain his body, suffer through month of therapy, and he listened to the older man gasp in his sleep, spring awake with barely a whisper, eyes searching the dark for the cold shadow. And he, Sam, had done that to him. He had once again taken out all his frustrations on the only person he could, his brother. '_He's in danger with me.' _A small, echoing voice drifted through his ears, whispered faintly from the back of his mind.

Sam stopped and stared at his sibling's retreating back, his mind and soul suddenly frozen, his heart aching. It was him, he was what would eventually kill Dean, he was what was putting his brother in danger. He was the reason their mother had died. He had stolen her from him, doomed the older man to a life of hunting, and then he had the nerve to walk away, to leave Dean to the life he had caused. The Demon had said it, right to his face. '_...because they got in the way.'_ And now Dean stood defiantly before him, in-between him and the Demon. Sam looked long and hard at his brother, a fear rising from deep within, a cold that had nothing to do with the forest suddenly over taking him, and energy growing within. Dean was in danger, and it was because of him.

"You coming, college boy?" Dean's voice echoed through the night, snapping Sam from his private torment, as a stiff wind blew through the trees, chilling him. He wrapped his jacket tighter around his lanky frame and took off after the other hunter, trying to clear his mind as he walked. Shaking his thoughts free of the darkness that was trying to claim them.

"I'm sorry." Sam began quietly as he reached his brother's side, Dean kicking at the snow as he walked.

"Yeah."

"No, Dean, I mean it, I'm sorry. I don't know what's with me."

"I've been telling you that for years."

"Dean, I'm trying to be serious. I shouldn't have exploded like that, it's just, I can't explain it." Sam looked over to his brother. Dean was staring off at the path ahead, his face turned slightly away, the young man remaining silent, distant. "So, you know. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"Dean, man, don't give me that crap. It's not fine."

"Just drop it."

"Dean."

"I said drop it, Sam." Dean snapped, turning to face his younger brother. "It's fine. I get that you're worried about me, thanks. Now let it go."

"Fine, whatever."

"Good, now let's just get back to the car and warm up. God forbid I freeze to death for you." Dean mumbled as he fell behind his brother, his voice low but ringing crystal clear in Sam's ears.

"Come again? I didn't quite get that."

"I'm just saying, I'm not the idiot who fell into a river. If you're so worried about me drowning don't fall in in the first place."

"Dean, I didn't mean to fall, I was following that damn light."

"And who was the one that said. 'Sam, slow down. Sam stop following the damn light.'"

"Well, pardon me, I just assumed it was the Hell Hounds."

"You know what happens when you assume. You make an ass out of you and me."

"I didn't know you could spell."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Jerk."

"You're not gonna need a hug now, are you?"

"I'm just worried is all. I mean, I screwed up when I went to school, and I just want to be brothers again."

"We've always been brothers, Sam." Dean stated evenly, his gaze dropping to the forest floor, voice low and strong, Sam's words running fast through his mind. '_I screwed up when I went to school.'_ Dean couldn't help but smile, feel his soul grow a little lighter. That was what he had been unknowingly waiting for, the words he had needed so desperately to hear. Sam had missed him, Sam hadn't meant to leave him behind, and maybe, just maybe, he would never do it again.

"Yeah well, I just got you back, and I'm not about to lose you again. Just promise me you'll be more careful, all right."

"Wow, Samantha, that was beautiful. Touching."

"Whatever, dude. Are we cool?"

"We're always cool, Sam."

Sam smiled as he and Dean walked through the dark forest, his mind at ease once more, his body relaxing as the fear and stress fell away. Dean had done it again, pushed his feelings away, buried his emotions for the sake of someone else. And Sam was grateful. He wanted more then anything to know what was going on in his brother's mind, what this life was doing to the older man, but he wasn't sure he could handle it. Dean was strong, the strongest person Sam knew, both physically and mentally. And Sam needed that. He used his brother as a buffer, stood behind him, with him. And somehow he knew, deep down, that Dean didn't mind.

He was a born protector, a port in the blinding storm. He kept Sam safe, kept him grounded, and while Dean stood physically in front of the Fire Demon, Sam knew that he also stood before it mentally. It was his brother's comfort, his courage that kept Sam strong, kept the darkness at bay, lessened the pain, and the uncertainty that had been plaguing him ever since his visions began. He knew, better then anyone, that it was Dean and Dean alone that had saved him, rescued him from the paths the other 'children' had followed. Dean was his safety net and without him Sam was afraid of just how far he might fall.

"Oh man." Dean began breaking the silence that had encased the boys for the past half hour, both men shivering involuntarily as the winter air continued to cut through their damp clothes. "Those things smell even worse when they're dead."

"Are those the Hodags? Why the hell did they rot away so fast?"

"I don't know, but it's disgusting. They're like piles of goo and horns. Is that how they're supposed to die?"

"How should I know?"

"Well, you're geek boy."

Sam gave Dean an incredulous look before walking over the corpse of the larger Hodag, the smell gagging him as he neared the mess. "I don't think they are supposed to die like this, though. As far as I could tell, everyone thought they were animals, not really supernatural beings."

"But if they weren't supposed to be real, then how do you explain these." Dean stated staring down at their former foes.

"The Hell Hounds are doing it somehow. I mean, the black dog, the revenant, the Hodags, the will-o-the wisp, it's just too big a coincidence."

"Tulpas."

"What?"

"They're Tulpas."

"How do you figure that?"

"Well, like you said before, they didn't act the way most supernatural beings do." Dean began, rather happy with his theory. "Most people only know about things through folklore, they don't know how they really act. They think you have to chop off a zombie's head instead of reburying it in its own grave. Or when they think of a killer dog, its that movie."

"That's why our usual arsenal didn't have any effect."

"Right. They follow the story, and in this case the stories are ridiculous."

"But, why the hell would they do that?"

"Fame."

"But why drag us into it?"

"We're the real thing."

"But I didn't see them here. I don't think they would have been able to hide, you saw them at the hell house."

"Yeah, that part still gets me."

"Maybe not for long." Sam's eyes traveled across the path, a small light catching his gaze, barely noticeable unless one was truly searching for it.

"What?"

"I see a little light over there."

"Don't follow it!"

"Not that kind." He began, glaring at his brother as he reached beneath the dense brush that lined the path. "This kind." He said, holding up the small video camera, the little red record button flashing brightly. "Its got an antenna on it, probably sending the video right to their computer."

"Is it on?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Dean suddenly grabbed the small camcorder from his brother's hand, his green eyes staring deeply into the lens, face set with awe inspiring anger. "Well hello, Ed, Harry, remember me? Let's refresh. I'm the guy that's gonna find you and kick your scrawny little asses all the way from here to hell and back. You messed with the wrong people, and the wrong car. So you better get your little butts moving because my brother and I are coming for you next."

TBC

A/N2: i will try to update this weekend, but after that i have a busy week, then irish weekend, so stay with me, i will do my best.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: hello again everyone, sorry about the very long wait (well, long for me anyway) but i have had a very busy week at work, add to that irish weekend, which was a blast, and i just havnt had the time to post. but dont worry, i am hoping to write and post the next chapter tonight as well. i want to again thank everyone for their great reviews. this chapter is a little short, and kind of scimpy on action. but dont worry, i needed it for a transition, the action will be back again in the next chapter.

well, on with the show.

D: i still own nothing.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 4

Dean had never been so happy to be back in a motel room in all his life. The night in the car had been long and hard, the heater doing little to warm the two freezing men. They were soaked through, with nothing to change into, the only other warmth coming from the two old comforters that had been in the trunk for as long as he could remember. Dean had spent many nights in his beloved car, often sleeping in it when he hunted alone, finding solace in the machine, almost as though he could feel his family in the worn upholstery.

It was his home, the one thing he could always go back to, the one thing he knew would never leave him. Even after the accident he refused to give up on his black beauty, painstakingly rebuilding it from the parts in Bobby's junkyard, promising his girl that she would be better then ever when he was finished. He needed his car, needed that one piece of normal, that one material possession. Sam didn't understand, no one did. It was the car his mother had rocked him to sleep in, the car they had driven out of Kansas in, the car he had grown up in. It was all he had, and he treated it as such.

Dean kicked open the old motel room door, Sam following close behind, and unceremoniously threw himself to the floor, his tired body stretching out across the mangy carpet, eyes closing as a stupid smile crossed his face.

"What are you doing?" Sam began, dropping the weapons bag on the nearest bed, taking in the sight of his brother stretched out across the dirty motel room floor, his hair a wild mess, clothes still damp.

"Don't want to get the bed wet."

"Then why don't you get changed."

"I will, right after a shower." And then with a lightning speed, that caught even Sam off guard, Dean jumped to his feet and claimed the small bathroom, intent on using ever ounce of hot water the building possessed. "What a nice, warm shower." Sam heard Dean's muffled voice drift through the old wooden door, almost seeing the evil grin spreading across the older boy's face.

"Jerk." He yelled, throwing a pillow at the door, Dean's demented laugh the only answer as the sound of running water drifted through the room.

Sam turned from the door and pulled out a fresh set of clothes from his bag, relishing the warmth of the worn fabric. He had no intention of waiting for Dean to leave the shower, all he wanted at the moment was hot food and dry clothes, half of his requirements fulfilled. He was amazed at how simple his life had become. How the smallest things, like dry clothes and an old motel room, could be so welcoming, so needed.

There had been a time, not too long ago, when all this would have been nauseating to him, when he would have found the idea of a motel room being a welcome sight disturbing, saddening. He once wished for normal, wished for a home, wished for conversations that didn't start with '_so, this killer truck.'_ But no more, all that was behind him now, left to a life Sam knew could never be lived, a life that was stolen from him long before he had lost Jessica.

Everything had changed the night they found the Demon, the night of the accident, the night he almost lost Dean. For Sam, that moment was a turning point, changing a part of his very being. No longer was he selfish, no longer did he wish for normal, wish for school. No, that night he had become a hunter, embraced who he really was. And he did it for his big brother. He was afraid, terrified of what the Demon had said, of the plans the monstrosity could have for him. Mary and Jessica had died because of him, for him, and he would no let that happen again. He needed to be strong, be sharp, be selfless. Dean was in danger, marked by the Demon, living in its cross-hairs, trapped in its sights. He needed to be protected, to be guarded, to be safe, and Sam would see to it, even if it cost him every ounce of his strength.

"I'm getting food from the diner, I'll be back."

"Make sure it's hot."

"What? Cold turkey on wheat."

"Don't even think about it, geek boy."

"What, sprouts and arugula salad?"

"Sam!"

"Sorry, can't hear you." Sam then opened and slammed the door, remaining quiet as he listened to his older brother storm around the small bathroom, a wide smile plastered across his young face.

"Sam!" He heard Dean yell through the door as the water stopped, his older brother's mumbled curses clearly audible. Sam continued to lean against the front door, his posture relaxed, eyes watching the bathroom, waiting. Moments later the door swung open, Dean emerging from the small room in a tee shirt and jeans, his light brown hair still soaking, his boots still in his hand. And at that moment Sam wished for nothing more then a camera. Dean froze, face lost somewhere between a scowl and a smirk, green eyes fix on his brother, boring into the younger man.

"You suck." He grumbled as he sat on the bed, pulling on his socks and boots, still staring daggers as his younger brother. "Couldn't even let me enjoy a shower."

Sam only laughed as he continued to lean against the door. "I seem to remember the doctor putting you on a strict diet back at the hospital."

"Bite me."

"I'm only looking out for your well being."

"If you quote that quack on more time I'm gonna smack you."

"Oh, Dean, I wish you could have seen your face when he told you that. No M&Ms, you looked like someone told you Christmas was canceled."

"Whatever, are we eating or what?" Dean asked, pushing himself off the bed, grabbing the laptop from the table as he made his way to Sam, his little brother's face still plastered with a stupid grin.

"I hope so, I'm starving."

Sam smiled as he closed the door behind him, the sun warming his tired and sore body, the truck stop a buzz of activity. The two walked slowly to the nearby diner, Sam wanting nothing more then to fill his stomach and then sleep for a week, his body aching for the warmest, greasiest thing he could order. He smiled wide, laughing to himself as he looked over at his brother, wondering what Dean would do if he had brought him back something even remotely healthy.

They entered the small, noisy diner, quickly seating themselves in a vacant booth in the far corner. The place was bustling, the news of the country flowing through the room as strong as the coffee they served. It was a meeting place for the travelers, a haven for the road warriors, a place to eat, talk, and then move on, leaving no trace of your passage. It was the kind of place Dean had grown up to know, to enjoy. He had spent his life eating at truck stop diners, had been woken many mornings to the sweet smell of coffee and eggs, to the chatter and banter of truckers and waitresses. It was as common to him as a family gathering, as normal as any breakfast should be. In truth, Dean didn't really like eating in quiet places, didn't like the feel of an empty room, a proper dinner. He preferred the noise, the clatter, the voices, the stories, everything about a diner that made it so. In a way, it was his dining room, an extension of his home, something that would always be there, waiting for him on the side of the road, fallen by the wayside.

"You two ready to order?" A middle aged waitress came over, smiling wide at the two boys as she turned over their mugs, filling them each with coffee.

"Can I have a full breakfast, over easy, ham and rye toast." Dean rattled off his choices before the waitress even had time to ask.

"Same here, can I get some pancakes too?"

"Sure thing, honey. Order shouldn't take long."

"Someone's a little hungry."

"I think I could eat a horse."

"Wow, falling in a river really takes it out of you."

"Seems like it." Sam answered as he pulled his laptop from his bag, switching it on as he placed in on the polished table. Dean watched his brother from across the booth, Sam's eyes hidden behind is mop of hair as he clicked away at the computer, his mind set on the task at hand. Dean couldn't help but smile, his father and brother more alike then anyone would guess, both single-mindedly obsessive when it came to the task at hand, nothing derailing either in their search for answers.

"Looks like we made the front page again." Sam stated evenly, his face illuminated by the computer screen, eyes scanning the web page.

"What, already? It was just last night."

"I know."

"Damn it. How much does it show?"

"All of the Hodag hunt. What the hell."

"What? What is it?"

Sam spun the laptop to face his brother, the Hodag fight still playing across the screen.

"What are you showing me?"

"Look at the link."

"River Rescue. How the hell did they film the river?"

"I don't know." Sam began, clicking the link. Dean again heard his voice calling Sam back, watched himself chasing his brother through the woods and into the freezing river. The entire scene played out before him, someone running by the side of the river, just behind the tree line, watching them fighting for their lives in the icy torrents, filming them drowning in a dark river.

The entire thing was making him sick. They could have died, they could have drowned, frozen to death, and no one seemed to care. Their lives were being placed in danger, his brother's life was being placed in danger, so two hapless filmmakers could get their big break. They deserved more then that, Sam deserved more then that, and for an instant Dean wondered if the hunt was even worth it anymore.

"You gotta be kidding me."

"Do you remember seeing them?"

"I was a little preoccupied."

"Dean, they didn't even try to help. You don't think they would have just watched us die, do you?"

"I don't know, Sam. Maybe they knew it was just a short set of rapids, figured we could keep our heads till it let up. Who knows. Either way, their dead meat."

"You can't hurt them, Dean."

"The hell I can't. They almost got us killed, they _have_ gotten other people killed."

"I know. Just, keep your cool. Let me deal with them."

"Whatever, dude. I still think they need a good ass kicking."

"Well, lets just try reason first, ass kicking second."

"Whatever you say."

"Here you go boys." The waitress smiled as she laid the food on the table, both Dean and Sam's eyes growing wide as they began to eat. "Enjoy."

The two ate in quiet for quite some time, both boys letting the warm food sink into their cold and tired bodies, their aching stomachs relishing the nourishment. They had been hunting non stop since Dean had been cleared by their father to resume working. Since then they had been spending far more time then normal on the road, chasing that which chose to prey on the innocent. They had been neglecting themselves, pushing themselves, and they both knew they needed a break.

Dean was still not quite a hundred percent, but he wasn't about to let that slow him down. He needed to be back in the game, to be moving again, fighting again, knowing that sitting around would only make him weaker. He still hadn't forgotten what the Demon said to him nearly a year ago, still hadn't forgotten the words that came from his father's mouth that night. A part of him knew it wasn't true, that he was just as important as the rest, but another part of him knew that they really didn't need him, that both could live their lives without him. And the longer he was away from the hunt, the more those feelings would fester, drive him made, push him over the edge, and he was not about to let that happen.

Sam, on the other hand, had been feeling just the slightest bit off since their encounter with the Asura on Shadow Pine Highway. It was something he couldn't quite explain, a nagging in the back of his mind, his senses on high alert for no apparent reason. It had him on edge, knowing full well that his 'spidy senses' as Dean called them had never led him astray. If he felt that there was something wrong, then, more then likely, there was. He just didn't know what. He was quicker to anger, and quicker to worry, his emotions flipping like a roller coaster, sending his mind racing. And he felt it all growing, feeding, pushing in on his mind, his trepidation growing with each passing day, his heart beating faster with each fleeting moment. Something was wrong, something was happening, and he couldn't figure out what.

"What the..." Dean practically yelled as he glared at the laptop, the diner suddenly falling silent, all eyes turned to them.

"What? What is it?" Sam whispered, leaning over the table, the diner's patrons slowly turning back their plates, a few still staring at the brother's out of the corner of their eyes.

"Son of a bitch."

"What?"

"How the hell. I just don't know how."

"Dean, what?" Sam was practically beside himself, it was not often that Dean was left speechless.

"I was looking through some of their stories, trying to see what the next hunt might be."

"And?"

"And, listen to this. '_In the world of ghost hunting there is reality and myth, truth and illusion. Many that claim to be hunters are nothing more then frauds, hiding behind camera tricks and slight of hand to scare. However, there are those among us who define expectation, drift from town to town, blowing through like a subtle wind, disappearing into the shadows once the job is done. They are the real hunters, the ones who help those in need, the ones that protect us all from the darkness between the days. Brothers Dean and Sam Winchester are two such people. They travel from city to city, barely remembered by those they meet, their existence almost like a story itself. But these two men are very much real. The videos you see are not doctored. Sam and Dean are part of a small community of hunters, a small group of people that know what is really going on in this world. _

_'Their mother was killed in a fire long ago, their father taking them into the shadows, rasing them to fight the darkness, keep the demons at bay. Over the past twenty three years they have done just that, with the help of many friends. Their lives are dangerous, three of their contacts having already been lost to the cause. They were chosen by fate to fight the good fight, risk their lives for strangers, travel the back roads of the country as nothing more then distant memories. We plan on changing that. Below you will find all the information the Hell Hounds have been able to gather about the Winchester Brothers.'_

"You're joking, right." Sam said quietly, his food all but forgotten as he stared wide eyed at his older brother. "Please tell me that you're joking."

"No such luck, Sam." Dean began, his voice wavering slightly. _This was bad, very, very bad._

"How the hell did they find out who we were?"

"I don't know. What I want to know is how they know about everyone else."

"What do you mean?"

"Sam, the 'information below' it's names. Missouri, Caleb, Pastor Jim, Dad, Mom, Joshua, Jessica."

"Wait, they have stuff about Jessica?"

"Not too much, just who she was and how she died. I'm sorry."

Sam looked like he had been punched in the gut, his face sinking, his eyes dulling. He hadn't gotten over losing Jess, and he didn't think he ever would. It was just easier not to think too much about her, to push the memories away. As Sam looked down at his hands a quick, cold wind blew through the diner, gone in a instant, leaving many of the patrons wondering if they had even felt it. Dean eyed his brother as the wind died away, still feeling its lingering chill.

"Does it say anything else?" Sam asked slowly, his voice nothing more then a forced whisper.

"Just maps of the places we've been. Stories about the Hook Man and Bloody Mary. Not too much. Are you ok?" Dean couldn't help but feel for his little brother, the pain of losing Jessica was evident in his brown eyes, his body slumping slightly at the sound of her name. And Dean suddenly had the overwhelming urge to beat the hell out of Ed and Harry.

"Yeah, just caught me off guard, that's all."

"So, do you still want to reason with them, or can I just beat the holy crap out of 'em?"

"Dean."

"What? You can't tell me they don't deserve it."

"We'll go into the morals of it later, I just want to know where they got all this information from."

"That's the question of the hour."

"Hey, Dean."

"Yeah?"

"What Joshua said to Dad, that we were putting the hunting community in danger."

"Sam, Joshua just flipped his lid, he didn't mean anything."

"Yeah, he did. Caleb, Pastor Jim."

"Just drop it, Sam."

"Hear me out, I'm not trying to justify him. But all this information, all our contacts, arranged nice and neat on a web page. Do you think this is how the Demon found us?"

Dean suddenly looked up, meeting eyes with his brother, both knowing the awful truth, the dangerous reality. Everything about their lives was there on the screen, plain as day for the rest of the world to see. There were even pictures of them, maps of their whereabouts, and a description of Dean's car. A girl scout could probably track them down.

"We gotta find them." Dean began as he closed the laptop, leaving a twenty on the table. They had to find Ed and Harry, they had to get them to close down the web page, their lives depended on it.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: hello all, i'm back again. i didnt get it finished last night like i promised, but at least it wasnt another week long wait. i want to again thank everyone for the reviews. i am glad you are liking it. i have three other stories outlined after this one, so just let me know if you want more and i will be more then happy to continue writing.

enjoy!

PS: the myth in this chapter is something i made up.

D: i own no part of the supernatural world.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 5

The impala tore down the dusty mountain road, quickly leaving Rhinelander and the Hodags in its wake. The day had been anything but normal for the Winchester brothers, their lives being turned upside-down by the information on a single web page. They prided themselves on secrecy, needed it to survive, to blend in, to keep each other safe. But now, everything had changed. Dean gripped the steering wheel harder and harder as he continued down the old highway, pushing the car faster as the day progressed. He needed to find Ed and Harry, he needed to know where they had gotten their information , who else might be keeping tabs on them, following them. He needed to keep his family safe, and he would stop at nothing to do just that.

"Do you think we should call dad?" Sam asked quietly from the passenger seat, the computer open on his lap, the Hell Hound web page on the screen. Both boys had been quiet ever since they had gotten in the car. He could feel the anger, feel the uncertainty rolling off of his brother in waves. Dean had been silent since they left the diner, not even sparing a word as he quickly packed their meager belongings and left the motel, his previous fatigue all but forgotten. It was unnerving to Sam, to see his usually vibrant brother so quiet, to see that kind of fear in his eyes. He was always so calm and collective, always level headed, even in the most dire of situations. But this was something they had never faced before, something that Sam had never even though possible. After all, who would want to broadcast their lives across the country?

"No. We'll be fine. We can handle this."

"Dean."

"I said no." Dean continued to stare out the front window, his mind a million miles from the desolate Wisconsin highway. They couldn't tell their dad, John couldn't know what he had allowed to happen, couldn't know how much danger he had but his brother in. He was supposed to protect him, supposed to be the good soldier, the big brother. What would John say if he could see him now? He was already embarrassed that he hadn't figured out his father was tailing them, that he had somehow let all his years of training fly out the window. Yes, his father's contacts were professionals, they would know how to cover the track. And yes, their father had even complimented him on their stealth in Colorado, but this was different. This was Ed and Harry, the Hell Hounds, he should have seen this coming, he should not have let his identity slip.

He was trained to be better, expected to be smarter then this. At that moment he felt like the world's biggest failure. He had let his guard down in Missouri, refused to believe his father was possessed, and look where it had gotten him. Dean knew, always knew, that his family came first, that they were is one true priority. But in his haste to be accepted, to be loved he let his emotions cloud his judgment, he let his heart guide his actions, and it had led to death and destruction. He could feel himself falling, feel his grip slipping, and he didn't think he could handle the disappointment he would see in his father's eyes if the older man knew just how badly he had messed up.

And the worst part of all was that he had no idea where the two were getting their information. It could have been a mistake he had made years ago, a slip of the tongue back when he was hunting alone, or it could have been something he did yesterday. It could have happened on a hunt, or it could have been information from a former contact. One could only guess. All he knew for certain was that he had screwed up, and that he would fix it before his father found out.

"But, Dean."

"I said no, Sam. I already screwed up, I don't need him to come save our asses again."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"In Washington. I should have been better, I should have been able to protect you, to get us out of there. We shouldn't have needed him, I should have been able to take care of everything."

"Dean, you had no way of knowing what was going on."

"That doesn't matter."

"Yes it does."

"I have a job to do, Sam. And lately I haven't been doing it very well. He's disappointed, I can tell."

"What, Dean, Dad's not disappointed."

"I don't want to go into this now, Sam. Lets just find them, fix this and move on."

"And how do you plan on getting them to stop. Asking them to shut it down didn't work last time."

"They can't type without fingers."

"Dean!"

"No, Sam. They've gone too far. This is our lives, your life. I won't let them destroy this family, I won't let anyone else we care about die. I am through being screwed around with. This may no be the best life, but by god it's mine and I will not have it belittled by those two little punks."

"Dean." Sam looked at his brother, seeing the man in a new light, feeling like he was looking at a stranger rather then a sibling. He was cracking, beginning to fall and it was scaring Sam to death. Dean was his older brother, his lifeline, his safety net. But here he was losing his grip, here he was watching everything he had worked so hard for, given so much of his blood for, parodied, turned into nothing more then an Internet prank. Dean had believed so much in the hunt, in helping people, saving lives from a fate similar to his own, but now, Sam wasn't sure what is brother believed in. And that tore him to pieces. Dean's beliefs, Dean's convictions had been a driving force behind Sam, had helped him move on after Jessica, helped him cope after they had found the Demon. He needed his brother to believe, to care, to see the hunt as something more then just a hunt, more then just revenge. Sam admired the way his brother lived, found solace in his strength, in the safety that radiated from him. And seeing Dean break was more disturbing to the youngest Winchester then any of the monsters they had faced.

For Dean it was never about the Demon that killed their mom, not really. I was about helping others avoid the same fate, about keeping other families together, safe. And he fought for that so much, that it made Sam's heart ache. His brother was such a selfless person, so much different then he and John. Dean had never put himself before anything, never asked for anything, just held it all in his heart and hoped. Hoped that his family felt the same about him, hoped that the people he saved would remember him, appreciate what he had been able to give them. He was beyond a hero, braver and stronger then the people everyone claimed as role models. In Sam's mind, Dean blew them all out of the water, made everyone look a little less then perfect. And it broke his heart to see him falter, to see him slipping away. It had taken him nearly twenty four years to discover his brother, and now he was afraid that he may have been too late. That Dean may be beyond saving.

"Dean. I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything."

Sam stared at Dean a few more minutes, his mind racing with things to say, but none of them seemed to be reaching his lips. He swallowed and looked back at the screen, his mind and body suddenly overtaken by a deep sadness, and overwhelming sense of loss. The torment was so deep, so profound, that it physically hurt him, stole his breath away as he sat there. It was a pain he had not felt since he lost Jessica. But as quickly as it overwhelmed him, it passed, gray eyes going unnoticed by both as he stared once more at the computer screen.

"So, I think I know where they're headed next."

"And where's that?"

"Apgar, Montana."

"Where the hell is that?"

"In the absolute middle of nowhere."

"Helpful."

"It's on the west end of Lake McDonald, in Glacier National Park."

"Is there an old man with a farm?"

"Shut up, Dean."

"Is it the home of the golden arch?"

"I highly doubt it."

"You know, you used to think I was funny."

"Yeah, and then I turned five."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"So, what's up there?"

"Well, apparently, back in the 1880s a frontier woman was supposed to meet the man she loved there, a Native American. They were going to get married in secret and move away. But another man, the guy she was intended to found out and met her on the banks of the lake instead. He killed her for disgracing him and threw her in the lake."

"Nice guy."

"There's more."

"Oh, great."

"So, when the man she was supposed to run away with showed up and saw that the frontiersman killed her, he went into a rage and tried to kill the guy but he got the upper hand and killed the Native American instead. He was subsequently hailed as a hero in the town."

"Some hero, murdering bastard."

"Anyway, the legend goes that the Native American is still hiking around the lake, looking to avenge the death of his love. Hikers have reported seeing the lady standing at the edge of the lake, weeping, calling to all young men to turn away."

"Why?"

"Well, because of the Native American's spirit. It's said that if he sees a young man he takes them, and they are never seen again."

"Should have guessed. Anyone hurt?"

"Yup, seven hikers have gone missing already."

"Son of a bitch."

"I know, apparently this story has been on their page for a while, we just weren't in this area."

"How many stories are there?"

"About twelve."

"Then how the hell do they know where we'll be?"

"Oh, son of a bitch."

"What?" Dean asked, finally looking over to his brother, who was typing furiously on his laptop.

"The IP address."

"The what?"

"IP address, it's like the address of a computer. They all have it, so the Internet can recognize who you are, let you gain access."

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"Because, web pages keep logs of the IP addresses of all visitors. They must have figured out what mine was somehow."

"And?"

"And, they probably see which stories we are hitting up, and where we are when we log on."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"We didn't go to their page for the first two. Remember, the hell hound and revenant were things we found in the paper."

"You're right."

"What about our cells?"

"They don't have IP addresses."

"Yes, I know that. I heard new phones have GPS in them. You know, big brother is watching."

"I guess they could be tracking us that way. But that would take some serious know how, its not information that just anyone can get."

"You can get directions to build bombs online, I'm sure if you really wanted to you could track someone. At least to the right state."

"Must be."

"Can we get those chips out?"

"I could try. Give me your phone." Sam said, holding out his hand.

"Use your own."

"Dean, mine's more expensive."

"Tough."

"Dean."

"Dad uses my number. Can't break my phone, Sammy."

"Lets just not worry about it right now."

"What. Why not?"

"Because I have an idea."

6666666666666666666666666

"Oh, Ed, I'm cold."

"Then use the pocket warmers."

"I already have four of them. Can't we go, they aren't coming."

"Come on, now. Take deep calming breaths. We have work to do, our public is expecting a new video."

"Yeah, but why can't we use the remote cameras."

"One, that jackass, Dean broke one. And two, remember the footage we got in the river. You can't get stuff like that with remote gear."

"I guess, but what if the ghost tries to kill us?"

"We've got the salt, and we've got the repelling charms. Now come on, would Buffy be afraid? Would John Edwards chicken out because he was too cold?"

"No."

"We're in the company of greats here, man. We just need to get a few more videos, write some scripts and then we will be rich. And you want to know why?"

"Why?"

"Because, we will hold all the copyrights my friend."

"Can you copy write a living person? Don't they get first dibs on themselves?"

"Nope. It is a kill or be killed market. A sign or be stolen world. Besides, when we bring it to Hollywood we don't have to tell them the brothers are real."

"Yeah, who would believe us anyway."

"Exactly. Now lets focus and get the video and then get out of here."

Ed and Harry both fell silent, hiding in the shadows of the forest, their eyes and cameras searching for the Winchester brothers. They stared out over the cold surface of Lake McDonald, the icy waters eerily still in the windless night. The entire area seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for a strike, for a sound, for movement. And still the Hell Hounds stared on, oblivious to the shadowy figure emerging from the darkness behind them.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: hello again. sorry about the long wait, i have had another busy week at work. also, i was completely wrapped up in the second season premier, it was amazing. i taped it and i cant get enough of it, truly wonderful, and the teaser at the end! all i can say is that i think this season is going to be absolutly amazing, i cant wait.

i guess since the premier my stories are slightly AU (for now) i have my own theories about what happened at the end. for those of you who have not had the chance to see it, i will say no more. i dont want to spoil such a stellar episode for anyone.

again, thank you all for the reviews, i dont want to beg, but they really help me write quicker. so please, review. :) and without further ranting, on with the story.

D: i have nothing to do with supernatural.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 6

The figure continued to move quickly and quietly towards the two hapless filmmakers, the Hell Hounds completely oblivious to the shadow as it stalked them, their minds and cameras focused on the lake, searching the night for their elusive prey. Tracking Sam and Dean had been no easy task, it having taken Ed and Harry no less then a year to even find proof that the two men existed. The brothers were good, there was no denying that, but when you had been at the center of so many unusual deaths it was hard not to leave a trail. And the Hell Hounds had finally found it.

The wind rustled lightly as the dark shadow moved closer still, stealthily maneuvering itself within a few feet of the skittish men, watching quietly as the two stared out over the lake, filming a ghostly woman walking smoothly along its banks. The night was eerily calm, the air around them unnaturally still. The entire area seemed blanketed with a think, other worldly darkness, the mere presence of the ghosts melting away all that one might find cool and comforting in the night. Something was there, something was brewing, and even the air seemed to feel it.

"Looking for something?" A voice breathed against the boys' necks, its sound nothing more then a menacing whisper, falling on their ears as heavy as the night on their eyes.

Both boys let out a simultaneous scream before sprinting out of the forest towards the lake, cameras in hand, minds fully focused on getting away from the shadow. Ed glanced behind him as they ran, trying to raise the camera to capture the tall shadow flitting along the edge of the forest, its features still lost in the dark haze of night. The uneven ground hampered his progress as he struggled to capture the silhouette with the night vision camcorder, half his attention set on the camera, half on staying upright on the rocky banks.

"Harry, Harry, I'm getting some great stuff here." He called over his shoulder to where he thought he had seen his partner running, but the air around him remained deathly silent. "Harry!" Ed turned from the forest just in time to see another shadow emerge in front of him, forcing him to the ground before he even had the chance to yell.

"Whatcha running from?" Sam's face was mere inches from Ed's, his brown eyes boring into the smaller man, his large frame pinning the no-good ghost hunter to the rocky forest floor. There was no denying his anger, the emotion rolling off of the younger Winchester in waves, reaching out towards the fallen filmmaker, pulling him deeper into the night. Ed stared up at Sam in absolute fear, the man's eyes shifting between gray and brown, almost imperceptible if Sam had not been so close.

"What the hell?" Ed whispered still struggling beneath Sam's weight, his wrist turning slightly as he tried to capture the young hunter on film, his eyes still shifting, anger still coming off him like a storm.

"Don't even think about it." Sam breathed coldly as he twisted Ed's arm, wrenching the camera from it and throwing it hard to the ground, the machine shattering into pieces.

"What the hell was that for?"

"What the hell was that for? Let me think. The videos, the fake hunts, posting our lives for everyone to see. Take you pick." Sam yelled as he pushed down harder on the man, his knee boring into his chest, Ed's breaths coming out short and fast.

"Sam." Dean's voice broke through the night like rocks shattering glass, the air rushing back into to Sam's lungs, the night winds blowing gently against his face, his vision clearing from an unknown haze. He looked down once more at the man pinned beneath him, his anger ebbing away, mind returning as he slowly stood, leaving Ed gasping on the cold ground. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know. I just lost my head a little."

"Hey, I'm all for kicking their asses, it was you that told me not to. By the way, where is Harry?"

"Uh."

"Uh, what?"

"I knocked him out when I hit him, he's over there by the tree."

Dean looked to where his brother had motioned, Harry's slight frame hunched unconscious at the base of a tree, his nose obviously broken. He turned back to his little brother slowly, his mind racing, instincts kicking in. Something was wrong, something felt off, but he just couldn't place it.

"Are you ok, dude?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam stated coolly as he walked over to Harry, Ed having already scurried over to his fallen friend's side. "Why?"

"You've just been a little on edge lately."

"Just tired I guess."

"Oh... Is it that time of the month, you can tell me."

"Dude, shut up."

"It's ok, Sam. It's natural."

"Bite me."

"Are you sure you're fine?"

"Apart from the twenty questions I'm just peachy."

"So." Dean began as they neared the Hell Hounds, his eyes still watching his brother uneasily, scanning the younger man for even the slightest hint of change. It was not like Sam to lose his temper so completely, to become so violent. Dean was the hot head, not Sam. He was the one more prone to talking things through, using force only as a last resort. And kick ass Sam was starting to have Dean a little worried.

Yes, his little brother had been tougher since the Demon, giving himself more freely to the world of hunting since learning of the entity's plans. But this was something much stronger, much deeper. Something had changed the younger man, something had altered his being ever so slightly, as though everything about him had shifted just a little. And Dean knew exactly when it had happened. Ever since they were trapped by the Asura, something had been different. But it was so subtle, so minute, that Dean wasn't even sure it was there, and that scared him more then anything. "What do you think we should do with our little friends here?"

"Well." Sam began, his sarcasm rising. "They really seem like they want to learn the trade. Maybe we should give them some pointers."

"Sounds like a good idea. Where do you think we should start?"

"I don't know, this ghost we're hunting seems a little big league for someone's first time." Sam continued, matching his brother's theatrical voice.

"But, like they say, 'sink or swim.'" Dean added. "Maybe it would be best to let them go cold turkey with the bad guys."

"Sound advice."

"You know, I saw a bar on the way in, feeling up for some pool?"

"Maybe darts."

"Darts it is." Dean smirked up at his brother, both Winchesters obviously enjoying tormenting their captive audience. "You think we should leave them anything?"

"Well, Dean, what kind of teachers would we be if we didn't help them out a little?"

"Too true. First." Dean said, looking straight at Ed, Harry still unconscious beside him. "You want to try and keep your partner safe, it's really hard to smoke the ghost and carry your buddy at the same time."

"Second." Sam began, still staring daggers at the Hell Hounds. "You're gonna wanna be prepared, know what your hunting and have the proper weapons and incantations ready."

"Struck out on that one too."

"Yeah, you guys are O for two now."

"Anymore tips, Sammy."

"It's always good not to piss off potential allies. Just in case you screw up steps one and two."

"Well, they seem to have missed all three. So, College boy, what do you think their chances are?"

"About one in a million. Guess we can always read about it on the Internet tomorrow." Sam shrugged as he and Dean began to walk away from the two terrified men, well, one terrified, one still out cold.

"Hey, wait!" Ed called, trying to lift Harry to his shoulders, slapping his partner's face in a lame attempt to wake him. "You can't just leave us here."

"Why not?" Dean called back as he and Sam continued walking, their shotguns still held tightly in their hands.

"Because, that thing will get us."

"Looks like someone wasn't paying attention in school."

"You won't leave two innocent men to die!"

"I don't think innocent would be my first thought." Dean called back, his keen green eyes taking in their surroundings, searching for any signs of their ghostly prey. Sam's plan was working, well, all except for Harry being unconscious, and Dean wasn't about to let his emotions cloud his judgment. He needed to be sharp, to keep things together, and Ed was not making that easy on him.

"I know you, you won't leave."

"Don't you dare tell me that you 'know me.'" Dean yelled as he started back towards the cocky man, his anger rising. "You have researched us, but you don't have any clue who I really am."

"Dean." Sam began, grabbing his brother by the shoulder. _Now was not the time._

Dean shrugged out of his brother's grasp as he approached the other two men, Ed having all but given up his attempts to lift Harry. Dean's anger was rising, boiling to the surface, his eyes glowing with the disdain, the deep fury he often held at bay filling his soul, darkening his very persona. Sam was always amaze at the level of control his brother had over his emotions. Dean had locked his feelings away for so long, buried them so deep in his mind, that they almost drifted away like the shadows of night in a growing dawn. Almost.

There was a time when Sam thought of his brother as perfect in every way, the favored son, the stronger hunter, the bigger flirt. Everything about Dean just seemed right, true, and complete. But ever since leaving Stanford Sam had come to see a brother he never knew, someone he somehow always missed. He didn't know if it was his years apart, the fact that his father had left Dean alone, or one of a million other reasons he was sure his brother had locked away somewhere. All Sam knew was that Dean was different, fractured, and slowly slipping away, and it was nothing new. Dean had always been lost in the shuffle, had always been slipping farther and farther into himself, lost in a darkness the other two Winchesters failed to see. And Sam's heart ached for the brother he now tried desperately to save.

"You followed us, killed innocent people, put my family and friends in danger, and now you want my help. Because you _know me._"

"I know you would never leave someone behind."

"You have no idea what I would and wouldn't do." Dean whispered evenly as he raised the shotgun, aiming it steadily at the shorter man in front of him. "No one knows what I would do for my family." And with that he fired.

Ed screamed and dropped to his knees, nearly hyperventilating when he saw the shotgun aimed in his direction, the rock salt flying past his left shoulder, missing him by mere inches. He stayed on the ground for several minutes, the icy draw of the spirit snaking its way along his spine, his arms still covering his head, not sure if Dean was going to turn the gun on him once more. What he hadn't expected to hear was Dean's slightly manic laughter.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

"Isn't it obvious, little man." Dean smirked as he shouldered his shotgun, Sam standing beside him, looking like nothing short of a giant as Ed continued to cower, Harry beginning to stir behind him.

"You tried to kill me and your laughing about it!"

"The ghost was behind you, smart ass. And besides, there's no 'try' about it, if I wanted you dead, you would be."

"The ghost, really." Ed stammered as he struggled to his feet, searching the area behind him for some sign of the malevolent spirit, his hands still shaking violently from Dean's little stunt, his mind falling back to the words he had just heard. '_If I wanted you dead, you would be._' "When did it appear?"

"Oh, it had been there for a little bit, it was trying to sneak up on you."

"What! Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Tip number four, never be the bait."

"Bait!"

"What, you didn't think we had a plan? We're more then just pretty faces, you know."

"Ed." Harry moaned from the ground, his voice thick behind his broken nose, two black eyes shinning across his pale face. "What's going on?"

"Oh, it just seems that we are at the butt end of a little brotherly bonding."

"Don't go there." Dean began, his tone menacing once more. "If you two morons hadn't started this little hunting spree then none of us would be here."

"By the way." Sam began, kneeling by their bag of supplies, which he had hidden behind a tree near Ed and Harry. "Where did you get all that information about us from?"

"Interviews." Harry answered, now leaning against Ed, both looking nervously around them, obviously not wanting to be anywhere near an angry apparition.

"What? Who? How?"

"We figured out where you had been, places you had lived and then went there and asked around. You guys are a lot more memorable then you think." Ed stated, rather proud of himself. He had put a lot of work into his little venture. He knew a lot about them, a lot more then he posted, and he just hoped Sam and Dean never figured that out. He had plans for them, for their life story. They were a wealth of information, a sea of untapped possibilities and he had every intention of draining that well dry.

"Who did you talk to?" Dean began, his voice icy, chilling the night with its venom.They had told others never to speak of them, asked them to lie to everyone they knew in an effort to try and keep their family safe, to try and stay out of the reach of both the authorities and the demons. But hearing Ed's confession had Dean's mind racing with both anger and fear, who had sold them out, who had broken their promise?

"Not anyone really important. All the big players kept their mouths shut."

"Yeah." Dean began, his heart and body relaxing, soul easing. _So many had kept their promises. _"It's called loyalty, ever hear of it?"

"Look." Sam broke in, silencing Ed's rebuttal with a single glance. "The rock salt won't last for long. We've gotta salt and burn the body before it rematerializes."

"Salt the what?" Harry began, a look of pure disgust on his face. "Why the hell would you want to do that?"

"It's how you kill angry spirits."

"Really. Seems kind of barbaric if you ask me."

"Well, good thing I didn't ask you." Dean stated, pulling a shovel from their bag of tricks. "Now, did you two make up the story or is it a local legend that you piggy backed off of?"

"Uh, we made it up." Ed stated, Harry still looking around the area nervously.

"Great. I take it you two know where it's buried then?"

"Uh, I never thought about it, actually."

"Look." Sam broke in as his brother inched towards the amateur, obviously intent on ringing the man's neck. "We think these are Tulpas. Are we right?"

"Yeah, we figured out it was that symbol and just put it in the pictures of each story."

"Ok. So Tulpas generally take on a life of their own once they are thought up."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"So, we have to kill it."

"And." Dean added, obviously having enough of the Sesame Street moment. "Traditionally we do that by salting and burning the bodies. Did you say where it was buried in the story?"

"No." Ed began nervously, taking a few steps back from Dean, his eyes drifting to the shovel clutched in the hunter's hand.

"So, there's no body to burn?"

"Uh, I'm gonna say no."

"Ed, did you give any hint in the story about how to kill it?" Sam asked, he too having enough of the twenty questions, the longer they stayed there the more they risked facing the ghost again.

"Wasn't it obvious?" Ed began, Sam and Dean merely staring at him, their faces a mix of anger and exasperation. "The girl and the guy died before they could get married. They are looking for each other, but the guy still thinks the frontiersman is out to get him. You have to reunite them and put their fears at ease."

"Come again." Dean began, his grip tightening on the shovel. '_This is just getting stupid._'

"Don't you two watch tv. Ghosts just need to be shown the way, have their fears eased so they can move on."

"No they don't. They need to be salted and burned. Dead guys don't need any of that touchy, feely crap."

"Aren't you a sentimentalist."

"Dean." Sam stopped his brother as he made a move to raise the shovel, Ed jumping back at the action.

"Sam, this is ridiculous. You're telling me I gotta have a chick flick moment with a homicidal ghost. I don't even have moments like that with the living."

"Yeah, I've noticed."

"Whatever, dude."

"Look, Dean, I'll just talk to it."

"When, while it's dragging you into the woods, or trying to stab you to death?"

"Funny."

"Can't we just change the story online and come back tomorrow?"

"Yeah, because that worked so well last time."

"Uh, guys."

"What!" Sam and Dean both turned to him in unison.

"Whatever you're gonna do, I think you should do it quickly." The brothers both turned in the direction Ed was staring, the Native American materializing out of the shadows, a dagger in its hand, hollow eyes boring into the boys.

"Ah, crap."

"Ed." Harry tried to whisper, his stuffy voice ringing in the still night. "Are you filming this."

"No, someone broke my camera."

"Do you want a face full of shovel?"

"Dean, can we focus. We'll bitch slap them later."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Sammy."

"Do we, by chance, get a say in the matter?"

"No." Dean and Sam replied, both men still staring down the slowly approaching ghost.

"Any ideas, Sam?"

"Maybe if we get it near the woman he will see her and be at rest?"

"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm on some twisted version of Operah."

"Look, just follow my lead. You two." He turned and motioned to the Hell Hounds. "See that ring of salt over by the bags. Stay in it, you'll be safe there."

"I think we could help."

"I think you've helped enough, stay in the ring."

"So." Dean began as they made their way cautiously towards the banks of the river, the ghostly woman still standing by its shores, weeping quietly. "We lure it to the girl, give some lovey dove speech about moving on together and hope to hell it works?"

"Yeah, that's about the extent of my plan. If that doesn't work, the rock salt seems to have an effect on this Tulpa, maybe we could just keep it at bay till the morning."

"I don't really feel like spending another freezing night in the woods."

"Yeah, lets just hope this thing will listen to reason."

"This sucks."

"Tell me about it. At least your not in the circle with Ed and Harry."

"Yeah, lucky for them."

"What you said before, Dean." Sam began after a few moments, his voice sharp against encompassing silence of the night. "That no one knows what you would do for this family. What did you mean?"

"Not really the time, Sammy."

"Come on, Dean."

"Why don't you save all your meddling for the ghosts."

"Oh, I have enough meddling to go around."

"You got that right."

"I just want you to know, Dean."

"Know what?"

"Your not the only one who would got to the ends of the earth for this family."

Dean stopped and stared long and hard at his brother, something unreadable on the younger man's face. He had told him he would die for him, gone to great lengths to save him from death, twice, and still he would go further, still he would break down the gates of hell if that is what it took to keep him alive, to keep him safe. Dean was both worried and comforted by the fierceness he saw in his baby brother's face, by the absolution he heard in his voice. Dean had been willing to lay down his life for his brother, been expecting to be sacrificed for his safety, and now Sam had chosen the same path. Dean shook his head as a slight grin crossed his face.

"What?" Sam asked, eyeing his brother nervously.

"Nothing. I was just thinking. We're both so determined to die for each other, lay down our lives to save this family."

"Yeah."

"Well, it's gonna be pretty anti climatic if we both die trying to save each other. You know, standing at the pearly gates."

"I guess it would be a little ironic. But it still wouldn't change anything. I meant what I said."

"So, anyway." Dean shifted uncomfortably, pulling himself back from the moment he and Sam were slipping into. "Any sign of our guy?"

"None."

"You think maybe the rock salt killed it?"

Sam was about to answer when a distant scream echoed back from their make shift camp, the salt circle conspicuously empty, the Hell Hounds nowhere in sight.

"I would take that as a no."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: hello all, back again. thank you all for the reviews. i only got one for the last chapter :(. i hope you all still like the story. let me know.

D: i have nothing to do with the show.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 7

Sam and Dean ran back to the now empty salt circle, both me cursing as they neared the area where they had last seen the wayward filmmakers. The hunt was going downhill quickly. Both brothers knew that the element of surprise was essential, once your target knew you were there things became much more complicated. Add to that the fact that no one seemed to know what the ghost did with the missing men, and their night was getting more dangerous by the minute. All four men were targets, and the brothers would be damned if they all became the victims of an imaginary entity.

They had fought demons, werewolves, rawhides, poltergeists, and more in their days, but the Hell Hounds had put everything in a class of its own, and the Winchesters weren't too sure how to deal with it. Both brothers knew how to hunt, and while Sam chose to ignore his abilities, Dean prided himself on them. But Ed and Harry were slowly and successfully undermining everything he had known. And he was getting tired of it. The Winchesters were not going to be taken down by two twitchy men and a ghost with emotional problems.

He had been raised a hunter, trained to do his job since elementary school. It was who he was, who he always would be. And above all else it was something he understood, a community and a lifestyle that accepted him. He knew that he would never be like Sam, his younger brother having a way with the world that Dean could barely even grasp, and that never really bothered him. Sam had a chance, had the ability to be more then his older brother, understood the normal world more then Dean ever cared to. Dean just didn't know how to tell him that, how to explain to his stubborn brother that he would never be able the have a normal life, that hunting was who he was. And that fact ate at him everyday.

"Do you see any sign of them?"

"No." Sam began, searching the ground around the circle, looking for some trace of the missing men. "How do you think it got them out of the circle?"

"I'm guessing they left of their own free will."

"Why would they do that?"

"Because, this is us, Sam. Nothing can ever be easy."

"Yeah, I guess."

Both brothers continued to search the ground when a loud scream brought them both to attention, staring out over the forest for some sign of the distressing call. They were both expecting to see a deranged ghost crashing towards them through the brush, or a dark entity descending upon them from above, what they hadn't expected to see was Ed and Harry racing towards them, being chanced by nothing more then the silent night.

"What?" Sam started, catching Harry by the shoulders as the two men ran frantically back to the brothers. "Where is it?"

"There... There was this wind, and then, man, I thought I heard something."

"What did it sound like?" Dean began, sharp eyes searching the dark forest, shotgun raised before him, his tense body positioned slightly in front of Sam, Ed and Harry.

"The leaves rustled, you know, like when something is walking around, but it was above us." Ed spoke as though he were retelling some riveting tale from the dark side as he tried to catch his breath.

"What did it look like?" Sam asked, his voice all business, as he released Harry, the smaller man jumping immediately into the protective circle of salt.

"We didn't see anything." Ed stated as though it was something everyone should know.

"What do you mean you didn't see anything?" Dean asked, turning towards the man as Sam's brown eyes continued to scan the darkness.

"Uh, nothing was in front of my eyes." Ed spoke slow and deliberate, waving his hand over his bespectacled eyes, looking at Dean like he was nothing more then a curious child.

Sam had to restrain Dean as he made a move towards the irritating man, his strong body tensing, eyes on fire, as Ed screeched and jumped back into the salt circle, as though it would protect him from the advancing hunter. Dean stared hard at both Ed and Harry for a few more minutes, Sam glad he still had a hold on his big brother, the older man looking like he was seriously contemplating stepping into the circle and ringing both their necks.

"Leave it, Dean." Sam whispered as he squeezed his brother's arm, Dean relaxing slightly at the sound of his voice. He scowled once more at the Hell Hounds, the two men cowering slightly at the stare, before he turned his attentions back to the forest, slowly circling the other three as Sam turned to talk to their two unwanted quests.

"Why did you guys leave the circle?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Ed began condescendingly.

"Enlighten me." Sam began, suddenly feeling the overwhelming urge to throttle them. '_Great, now I'm channeling, Dean.'_

"We're ghost hunters. We were hunting the ghost."

"You're not ghost hunters, you're not anything hunters."

"I take offense at that. We helped fight off Mordechai"

"No you didn't."

"I seem to remember that it was _our_ web site that said how to kill him."

"Yeah, and then it crashed as we had to burn the whole place down."

"Semantics."

"Sam." Dean began, watching as his brother inched closer and closer to the patronizing little man as the conversation progressed. "If I don't get to beat them up then neither do you."

"Anyway, last I checked, we were the ones in the salt." Ed motioned to the ring in which he was standing, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

"That's for demons and ghosts you idiot." Sam spat back as he fought to regain control of his temper, finally leaving Ed and Harry to their own devices and walking over to Dean. "You see anything yet?"

"No. Something isn't right, Sam. This whole place just seems off."

"I know. I feel like I am waiting for something. Well, you know, more then the actual waiting for something that we're doing."

"Dude, that actually made sense to me."

"Really?"

"Yes, and it's creeping me out."

"Why?"

"Because you're making me think like you. Twisted college boy brain."

"Can we focus here, please. We still have a ghost to toast."

"Hey, you're a poet and you didn't know it."

"That's not really focusing." Sam commented as they made their way to the lake.

"No, but it's observing."

"Tomatoes, tomatoes, Dean."

"Huh?"

"Never mind."

"Stay in the god damn circle." Dean yelled as he turned back to the Hell Hounds, where, sure enough, Harry was holding onto Ed as he leaned to try and grab something outside the salt.

"How did you know?" Harry asked, startled by Dean's loud voice, Ed falling forward as he let go.

"I'm amazing." Dean shrugged, raising both arms, letting is guard down for barely a minute. But that was all it took. The instant those words left his mouth Dean's feet were pulled violently from beneath him, sending him face first into the hard dirt of the forest floor, his shotgun falling just out of his reach. And as quickly as he was knocked to the ground he felt himself being pulled into the darkness, his body twisting and fighting against the cold grip that wrapped itself around his legs, his arms grabbing for anything that would stop his progress.

Sam watching in horror as his brother disappeared from his side, the older man a good ten meters away before his mind had even registered what was going on. Sam ran towards Dean as fast as his long legs would carry him, but he was still no match for the spirit, the ghost attacking with a lightning speed, ripping his brother away, dragging his family off into the night. Sam aimed the shotgun as he ran, firing at where he hoped the ghost was, its form still not visible in the cold night. The shot rang out like a cannon, shaking the too silent forest with its force, slicing the thick air with a burst of sound. As quickly as the ghost had attacked it release Dean, the older hunter coming to a dead stop at the edge of the tree line, Sam tripping over him as he continued to run, not having the ability to stop on a dime as Dean had.

"Son of a bitch." Dean mumbled as he pushed himself up off the ground, his body aching and bruised from the recent encounter. "You all right?" He called to his brother, noticing Sam laying a few feet away, still sprawled on the ground from the fall.

"Yeah." He began, letting out a long sigh as he looked at his brother and then the forest. "That was a close one."

"You're telling me. Another few feet and I would have been Casper chow."

"Casper chow?"

"Nice shooting by the way, Tex."

"Yeah, well, what can I say."

"Geek boy saves the day."

"Dean." Sam said, staring out over the banks they had just been propelled across. "Look. The lady's back."

"I'll be damned. I guess Romeo only shows up when she's around."

"Makes sense."

"Why?"

"Well, the frontiersman was supposed to marry her. Then that same guy was hailed as hero for killing her lover."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, maybe the Native American guy is trying to prove himself to her, killing guys like the guy that killed him."

"Sam, it's a Tulpa, it doesn't matter what happened because it didn't actually happen."

"Maybe not, but Tulpas are thought forms, maybe different ideas can influence them, more then just the stories."

"So, if someone is reading the story and thinking that the Native American lost his honor, then the thing would want to redeem itself in his girl's eyes."

"And, maybe a lot of people think that way. Ed and Harry said they had to be reunited."

"Yeah, but Sammy, I'm a hunter not a shrink."

"Well, then, you watch my back, I'll go and meddle."

"All right, Gramma Sam, work you magic."

Sam gave Dean one last 'bite-me' glare before turning back towards the ghostly woman as she glided along the banks, weeping silently in the moonlight, Dean moving stealthily behind him, his eyes scanning every inch of the lake shore.

They approached the woman slowly, taking care not to startle her, fearing that if they lost her they would lose the only leverage they could muster. The ghost was strikingly beautiful and, had she been living, Sam had no doubt that his brother would have been all over her. She was small and slender, soft brown hair falling down to her waist, large blue eyes staring out, transfixed at the large lake, her gaze lost to the still water. And she was crying silently, her petite body trembling, face drawn, though nothing but the light wind could be felt or heard. Even though she was imaginary, the product of a million minds, Sam still felt for the spirit, understanding her deep sorrow. Nothing in the world was worse then losing the people you loved, nothing.

Sam drew in a deep breath as he approached the figure, her eyes still looking out over the lake, attention still off on some distant horizon. "Hello." He began softly, the spirit turning to him so quickly that Sam had to take a step back, his heartbeat beginning to rise. "Do you need help?"

"You shouldn't be here. Nothing can help me." Her voice echoed though the forest and mountains, faint as snow, yet still surprisingly strong.

"I think maybe I can."

"He will take you too."

"Are you afraid of him."

"No, I am ashamed of myself."

"Why?"

"I should never have given my love to him, I should have respected the ways of society. This is all my fault."

"Listen to me, I can assure you that this isn't your fault."

"Do you know what it feels like to be responsible for someone's death?"

"Yes." Sam said softly after a moment. "I do."

"Then you can understand my torment. No one can help me because I don't deserve help."

"Sometimes what we don't deserve is what we need the most. I can help you, you won't have to be here anymore."

"But what of those who have died?"

"They won't harm you."

"Are you here to take me away?"

"No, but he is." Sam pointed over her shoulder and the woman turned slowly to see the spirit of the Native American standing solemnly behind her.

The woman stared deeply into the man's eyes, as though speaking to him from a distant life, neither moving their lips, yet both still understanding.

"They hooking up yet?" Dean whispered into his brother's ear, making Sam jump, the younger man turning to him with a 'shut the hell up' look plastered on his young face.

"Dean."

"What. This is boring dude, I feel like I'm stuck on a bad date."

"Just give it a little while, all right. They've been at this for over a hundred years."

"No they haven't. Sam, they're not real."

"They don't know that."

"So."

"So, their actions are based on what they know, not what they really are."

"Huh?"

"You know, I think you play dumb just to avoid talking to me."

"Nah, Sam. That's not the only reason."

Sam was saved from replying when a sudden gale began to grow from the center of the lake, the wind blowing with a deafening roar, drowning out all other sounds as it grew stronger with each passing moment. The trees bent and swayed with its force, strong gusts sending the brothers to their knees, both men covering their heads as smaller rocks and branches began to swirl around them. And there, in the center of it all, was the ghostly couple. Still staring deeply into each other, both figures untouched by the wind, as though they were locked in another time, experiencing another life. And suddenly they were gone, the wind dying quickly as a silence fell once more over the remote lake, all signs of the supernatural gone from sight.

"Wow, that was something new." Dean stated evenly a few moments later, the brothers still laying on the cold ground, staring at where the ghostly pair had been. "I'd still rather do the whole salt and burn thing though."

"Yeah, it seems a little less..."

"Girly?"

"I guess that would be one way to describe it."

"Hey." Two voices called out from the edge of the forest as Dean and Sam continued to lay motionless on their backs, both staring up at the star filled sky.

"Oh, man. I forgot about them."

"They're the reason we're here, how could you forget them?"

"Don't lie, you forgot about them too, college boy."

"Maybe, but for, like, a minute."

"Liar."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Hey, hey. Are you guys ok? Harry, get ready dude, they might need CPR."

"Don't you come one step closer." Dean shot up like a cobra, his body tensing, arms outstretched as though the simple action could ward off all. Ed and Harry stopped dead in their tracks, Dean's movement making both men nearly jump from their skin.

"What the hell, you scared us to death."

"Hey, I try."

"We thought you were dead." Harry nearly shouted, and Sam was surprised by the amount of concern he heard in the other man's voice.

"Yeah, well, we're fine." Sam stated as he pulled himself slowly from the ground, pulling Dean to his feet a few minutes later.

"Why were you laying on the ground like that?"

"Because we were tired. We just battled a ghost if you two hadn't noticed. It tends to take it out of a guy." Dean voiced angrily as he tried to stretch his sore and bruised muscles, his tired body feeling ever inch of the ground he had been drug across.

6666666666666666666666666

"So, how many more?" Sam asked as all four made their way along the trail, Sam leading the way as Dean brought up the rear, they were still not entirely convinced that the reunion had destroyed the spirits. Dean still wanted to salt and burn the bones, but since there were no bones he settled for huffing and cursing at the two men walking in front of him instead.

"Uh, how many more what?" Ed asked, not looking up from his broken camera equipment, Harry steering him around any obstacle that may lay in his path.

"Tulpas." Sam stated shortly as he continued on. He was very, very tired of the Hell Hounds.

"Well, this was the last violent one. Some hunters got the other two animals. That just leaves the Leatherman."

"The Leatherman was a real person, he used to walk a 365 mile route around Connecticut, stopping at the same towns every 34 days for the exact same food. There is nothing supernatural about him."

"There wasn't. But now _our_ Leatherman wanders the same area, finding lost hikers during storms, sheltering them. Then, when they wake up, they find they are on a main road right near the ranger stations."

"So, he's a good guy. No killing every third person he rescues or stuff like that?" Dean asked, genuinely curious.

"Nope, just the ghost of a good guy."

"What about the animals?" Sam began, needing to know what else these two had cooked up.

"The Jersey Devil and a jackolope."

"God damnit, I missed a jackolope hunt!"

"Dean, can we focus? Are you guys telling me that someone killed the Jersey Devil and it didn't make the papers?"

"The Tulpas dissolve after they're killed, at least the ones with bodies do, no one believed the guy without a corpse."

"Wait, Sam said there were twelve stories. I've counted seven bad guys, what about the other five."

"They didn't have sigils. We wanted to see what took and what didn't before we went through all the trouble of trying to make Tulpas. It isn't easy you know." Harry stated matter-of-factly as they walked, earning a slap in the back of the head from Dean.

"All right." Sam began before either of the Hell Hounds could further provoke his brother. "So there are no more Tulpas to worry about?"

"Unless leather guy starts killing people, no."

"Then that just leaves one more piece of business." Sam began as they approached the cars, Sam and Dean having used the GPS in Harry's phone to track the men's movements. "Our information. We want it off the sight, now."

"And we want all the documents you have about us."

"Gentlemen, I think you are forgetting a little thing called, freedom of speech." Ed began pushing his glasses back up his nose, his demeanor smug.

"I think your forgetting a little thing called, freedom to breath." Dean vented approaching the small man.

"Dean. Don't."

"Come on, Sam."

"We don't need to hurt them."

"Yeah, you don't need to hurt us." Harry began, moving towards his car, hiding slightly behind Ed.

"Why not?"

"Because, I took the liberty of hacking their web site and computers. I am in complete control of the site. Anything I don't like, gone. Any more sigils, wiped out. Any of our information, site goes down in flames."

"You can't do that." Ed shouted indignantly, watching all his hard work wash away.

"Oh, I already have."

6666666666666666666666

Forty five minutes later Sam and Dean pulled up outside a fairly small mountain motel, the only one they had seen since leaving Lake McDonald. Sam killed the engine and got out to get a room, Dean still sifting through the many papers they had acquired from Ed and Harry. His knee was once again throbbing, his trip along the forest floor having aggravated a number of his injuries, both new and old. "This getting old stuff sucks."

"What?" Sam asked climbing back into the car, bringing the impala around to their room. It was a long way from tourist season and as a result the brothers were the only occupants of the dingy motel, Sam finding the idea both comforting and a little foreboding. '_No one to hear you scream.' _Sam mentally shook himself, he had been listening to too many scary stories.

"Nothing. Just a little tired."

"That's an understatement. Man, how do you drive all over all the time. It's exhausting."

"I like driving."

"Well, to each his own. I just can't wait till you can drive again."

"You and me both, Sammy." Dean said longingly as he pushed open their door and dropped his bag and papers onto the nearest bed, the only thing his tired body wanted was food and sleep. "You hungry."

"Yeah. I saw a little diner not far, I think it's twenty four hours."

"Nice. Food always tastes better in the middle of the night."

"Never really noticed." Sam mumbled as he sorted through his bag, his back to his brother.

"You seem more then a little distracted."

"It's just, everything that has been happening. I mean, Dad possessed by the Demon, Joshua turning on us, and now all this crap with the Hell Hounds. How do we know who to trust anymore, Dean?"

"Well." Dean began, his trademark smirk forming across his face, as he looked at the back of his brother. "We could always just walk around saying 'Christo' to everyth..."

The air seemed to freeze in Dean's throat as his eyes grew wide with fear, his brother's body flinching at the sound of the name, the younger man slowly stretching to his full height, back still to his brother. And then, very slowly Sam turned to face the stunned man standing behind him, terrified green eyes meeting cold gray.

TBC

yes, i added in the jersey devil, why, because i was raised in the area where it lives. just a little shoutout to my home area. also, the Leatherman was a real guy, if anyone wants to look it up, it is a pretty cool story.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: ok, first off i want to say sorry for the long wait, i really didnt mean for it to take so long. i was a bridesmaid over the weekend, and the past two weeks have been very busy at work. all in all october has been a crazy month. i am hoping to have enough time to update regurally again. thank you all for hanging in there with me.

i also want to thank everyone for the great reviews, i am glad you all liked the twist. i love suspense. hope you all enjoy this chaper. let me know. again, sorry for the long wait.

D: supernatural is not mine.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 8

Dean stood in absolute silence as he continued to stare at his younger brother, Sam's eyes shinning with a unworldly lust, a deep need that sent all feeling from his brother's tired body. Dean knew that sensation, remembered those eyes, feared the presence that stood defiantly before him, mocking him, belittling him. Even the air in the room tasted different, heavier, mustier, colder, darker. And it all brought his world crashing down upon him, sent panic careening through his tense body. All the fears that had been plaguing him over the past five months came rushing back to him tenfold as he stared at his baby brother, the other man's familiar face staring back. But his soul was something else entirely, something ancient and dark, something not Sam, but still known to Dean.

"You." He said, his voice barely more then a forced grunt, his heart still beating fiercely in his chest, threatening to burst through his skin at any moment.

"Me." Sam answered, but it wasn't Sam. His voice was hollow, cold, like an empty echo, a dead and dying voice flowing past Sam's lips.

"You're dead."

The thing before him only laughed its cold, mirthless laugh, a laugh Dean had hoped he would never have to hear again. It echoed through his dreams at night, woke him with a freezing fear, a paralyzing terror, and now here it was again, resounding from somewhere deep within his brother. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How are you not dust?"

"I have to say, blessing the rivers, that was a stroke of genius. Exactly why I did not want your father there. But, things all worked out in the end, now didn't they?"

"What have you done with my brother, you bastard?"

"Oh, child, your brother is here, standing before you. Don't you recognize him?"

"Let him go."

"Why, because you asked? Besides, I cannot let him go, you made sure of that."

"Why's that?"

"You destroyed my home, blessed my land, I cannot go back there."

"You were bound to it, you should have died."

"Yes, I should have. Except, when you finished your little ritual I was not bound to the land, at that moment, I was bound to your brother."

"Get out of him."

"Oh, Dean." The Asura breathed as it moved closer, an unnatural chill growing in the air with every step the beast took, ever inch closer the brothers became. The closer he came the more Dean could see just how pale his brother's skin was becoming, how cold he looked. "Why would I give up such a prize?"

"You said before that you wanted me. Well, here I am. Let him go, you can have me."

"Nobel. But, tell me this. Why would I settle for one when I can have you both?"

"You can't have me unless you let him go first."

"Oh, child, you don't really have much of an option. First, you have no weapons, and second, you wouldn't hurt him if you did." The Asura then smiled a deep, cold smile as it watched Dean's jaw clench, his eyes growing wider. "You are so predictable, so loyal." Sam suddenly waved his hand, a fierce pressure crashing into his brother's injured knee, sending him to the ground with a pain filled cry. "Even after everything he has done to you, everything they have both done to you, you would never truly harm them, you would never put your needs before theirs."

"Your point?"

"You're lost, alone. Your family, they don't really need you, they have shown you that time and time again, but still you worship them, still you give everything you have, everything you could have had for them. Why? Because you are so terrified that one wrong step will bring it all crashing down upon you? That one mistake would make them love you less?"

Dean didn't answer, he couldn't. Everything the Asura was saying to him, every word that passed over his brother's lips, was true. He had to be perfect, be strong, be obedient. If not, well, then he wouldn't be needed, he wouldn't be important. His job was to save people, protect his brother, obey his father. It was who he was, who he had always been, and who he would always be. Without his brother he had no one to protect. Without his father he had no one to obey. Without his family he would no longer be Dean Winchester, instead he would just fade away, fall from memory, disappear alone. He would no longer be a brother, a son, or a hunter.

He remained on the floor breathing hard, his body reeling from the hit, mind reeling from the torment. He couldn't let this happen, he wouldn't. He had survived the shadow forest, survived a fall over a cliff, and he was going to survive this. The Winchester family was going to survive this, they had to. The Demon that took their mother was still out there, burning others, hunting his brother. This fight was far too important to lose now, failure was not an option. Dean pulled in a long, deep breath before slowly pushing himself back to his feet, his back and shoulders aching, knee screaming like no injury ever had. But he wasn't about to let that keep him down. He took another deep breath before staring down his possessed brother, his eyes boring into the shadow as though they could shoot fire.

"I will never stop fighting for them. Repeat my fears to me as much as you want, but I won't stop. Not until every evil thing in this world is dead."

"Dean, there will always be darkness."

"Then I will always be there to fight it."

"You won't live forever."

"Maybe not, but I'll live long enough."

"Ever the warrior. As long as there is hope, then there will be fear." The demon raised Sam's hand again, sending another rush of energy into Dean's failing body, the hunter falling once more to the floor. "Aren't you going to fight me?"

"Well, you hardly play fair."

"I find rules limiting."

Dean tried to rush the demon only to have another burst of energy hit him like a strike of lightning, throwing him back, his back connecting hard with the wall. "Son of a bitch." Dean fought back the bile that was seeping into his throat as he once again pushed himself to his feet, his right knee buckling as he stood, a wave a dizziness rushing him as he gripped the table. "So. You through using your little shadow buddies to throw me around?"

"I used the shadows because I do not have the power myself. I can absorb your soul, enter your mind, but I cannot touch you."

Dean unconsciously ran his hand over his scarred forehead, the memory of the shadows touch all to fresh, the frostbitten skin it left behind a sickening reminder of that awful encounter.

"That." Sam smiled. "Is from the air that I touched, not my actual body."

"What about Joshua? You melted him."

"Again, that was not with my physical body. I freeze the air I touch, torment and torture the souls I reach for. Yes, I can melt off a man's skin, but I cannot move him, I cannot truly touch him."

"Then, how are you throwing me around the room? Booster shot."

"You could say that. I am using your brother just as I used the shadows. It is he who is throwing you around the room. His power."

"My brother doesn't have that kind of power."

"Stop being blind, Dean! Stop turning away from the truth. You know what your brother is, what he is capable of. I can sense it in you, I can feel your fear. They will be killers, all of them, it is just a matter of time."

"Not Sam."

"Yes, Sam. I can feel it burning within him, struggling to get out. He will fight it, I have no doubt about that, but he will lose. Someday something is going to push him over that invisible line, and that day he will lose. He will be what he was always meant to be."

"You sick bastard! You don't know my brother, no one knows him the way I do. He would never kill."

"Even now you doubt that. You fear everyday that you are wrong. You have seen the others, seen what they are capable of. And yes, not all of them have killed, but that doesn't mean that they won't."

"Nothing would turn him. Not as long as I'm around."

"And what if you are not around? What if you are the soul he kills for?"

"He wouldn't."

"I wouldn't be so sure. If it came to your life or another, what would he do? Stand back and watch you die, face life without his hero, or would he lay down his soul and save you, end a life to prolong yours? You have no idea what this boy would do for you."

"Go to hell."

"I missed you Dean. Your power, your defiance, your soul."

"What?"

"When I first took hold of your brother, I was weak, nearly gone. I had to remain dormant, hidden, safe while I gained power, while I healed. I couldn't reach out to anyone. I could feel your strength, your determination, your grief, but there was nothing I could do about it." The demon spoke longingly as it continued to make its way towards Dean, the young hunter rooted to the spot, his body and mind knowing they should run, but somehow still refusing to do so. "I had to live off of Sam's power, feed off his emotions and his alone. I tried to steer him, to push him so I could feed more, grow faster. But he is a stubborn young man."

"Good for him."

"But, through it all there was one thing, one emotion he could not suppress, a wealth of feeling that was flooding from his soul."

"Oh yeah, and what was that?"

"Fear."

"What have you been doing to him?" Dean asked angrily, fearing that the shadow was driving his brother mad, terrifying him from the inside, attacking him in a way that he couldn't fight.

"The fear doesn't come from me. It comes from you. His body, his mind, his heart, they are all weighed down by it, grounded by it, buried by it. He's afraid of your death, he's afraid of your temper, he's afraid you will snap, that you are too far gone for him to save. He's afraid that one day, you may not be around. He cherishes you. You hide your emotions like no other human being, push things so far away that even I cannot find them. But your brother, your Sammy, he knows that, and it terrifies him. What will he do when you finally break?"

"I wont."

"Dean. You know as well as I that you are lying. I have felt the walls beginning to crumble, felt you slipping away. You are closer to the edge then even you know. I have gained strength, and every night, I have gone into your mind, fed on your emotions. You are falling, child. Tell me, who will save your family once you are gone?"

"I will never leave them."

"You don't have a choice."

"Why, you planning on killing me or something."

"If not me, then something else. You were overlooked for so long, hidden behind your brother's destiny and your father's strength. But no more. We have seen you now, learned of what you could be, seen what you could do. You are the shield that has protected your family. Without you, there are no Winchesters. Those you hunt have come to see that, and now they are hunting you. Now, lets see just what your little brother would do for you."

And with one last hollow laugh the Asura swiftly raised Sam's arm, sending Dean flying across the room like nothing more then a rage doll, the young man's body hitting the wall with a sickening crack before falling slowly to the ground as unconsciousness claimed him.

"Powerful." The shadow whispered to himself as he looked down at Sam's hand, turning his prisoner's body slowly towards the mirror, his gray eyes still shinning. "This will be fun."

6666666666666666

Consciousness came slowly to Dean, his eyes felt heavy and his body unnaturally cold. He tried to move but found the action to be nearly impossible, his arms and legs feeling stiffer then he ever thought possible. The air around him was cold and crisp, a wind blowing through the room, chilling him as he laid against the wall, his fear growing with each passing moment. Slowly, very slowly he managed to push his moss green eyes open, the space around him blurry but bright, the door swinging slightly in the deep winter wind.

Sam was gone, that thing had taken him. A new energy coursed through the battered and bruised hunter as he tried yet again to push himself off the floor, his body still fighting him, arms shaking as he began to pull himself up weakly, using the bed to help support his weight. _I have to get up, I have to find Sam._ How could he have lost him, how could he have let this happen. Sam was possessed, and he had been possessed for five months. How in the world had be been able to miss it. '_Simple.'_ He told himself. '_The same way you missed that dad was possessed. This family blinds you.'_

And it was true. Anything that pertained to his family, any moment that revolved around them gave Dean a sort of tunnel vision. All he saw, all he knew at those times was that his family was there, with him, together, and he was no longer alone. He wouldn't let himself judge their actions, question their intentions, because any little thing could send them away again, and he didn't think he could handle that. But the alternative was becoming much worse. He was losing his family, losing Sam and John. Every time he turned away he put them in danger, every time he ignored an oddity he pushed them further into harms way, gave them more freely to the darkness they fought. But there was no other way, he couldn't live without them, that much he knew. And he decided then and there, his weak body leaning heavily against the old bed, knee stiff and unmoving, that his father and brother came before all else, even himself. If his family was going to be the death of him then so be it.

Dean struggled to his feet, his back and shoulders throbbing, tall figure stooped as he tried to take a step, a small cry escaping his lips as his entire body buckled and fell to the floor, this knee aching, muscles bruised. He didn't even have the strength to stand, all his joints stiff and locked, his strong frame trembling from the exertion. But he wouldn't stop, he wouldn't just lay down, leave Sam to a fate he couldn't imagine. He was going to fight, fight with every once of strength he had, and when it failed he would continue, driven on by some force he could never explain. He didn't know if it was love or fear or some type of divine intervention, but Dean always had the ability to go far beyond the strength his body was supposed to have. And now wasn't going to be any different.

He again managed to pull himself up to the bed, his eyes closed, breathing slow and deliberate as he tried to convince the room to stop spinning, persuade his dinner to stay in his stomach. His eyes fluttered in the wind, his vision still alarmingly blurry, mind still frighteningly foggy. '_Man, I must have it that wall hard.'_ He stood there, shaking, for a few more minutes, the room oddly slanted, blood dripping down the back of his neck, his eyes still barely seeing. But, ever so slowly, the world began to right itself, at least enough so he could walk.

His knee still refused to listen to him, but at that moment he didn't care, if he had to hop to Sammy's rescue then by god he would. He had saved the boy from werewolves, wendigos, the hookman and even bloody mary. There was no way he was going to let some shadow demon simply walk away with him, there was no way he was going to lose his brother in a motel room. He was better then that, and he was going to prove it.

He limped clumsily threw the room, his knee jerking and clicking with each step he took. '_Great, I'm gonna break the thing all over again.'_ He pushed the thought from his mind as he collected what little belongings they had and headed out towards the impala, his need to find Sam out weighing everything. He had no idea where his brother had gone, but he felt like a sitting duck staying there, as though he was just hanging around, waiting for the Asura to come finish him off. No, this had become a game of wits, and Dean was determined not to be caught off guard again.

As he pulled off onto the road, his vision still frighteningly blurry, he couldn't help thinking about Sam, about how he had failed him, how he had sat next to him for five months and done nothing to help. Why didn't he say anything? '_Maybe he didn't know.'_ The though was like ice shooting threw his veins. Sam didn't know. He said he had felt a little off, tired, but nothing to suggest possession. And that revelation sent Dean's mind reeling. How could he not know if he was possessed? Had his father not known it either, unwittingly brought his family into danger without a clue? And could it happen again? Was it really that easy to use them against each other? Were they really that blinded by their own love for one another? Was it truly better for them to be alone, to lose contact, hide away. '_Could I be used to harm them.'_

Dean was broken from his personal torture when the shill ring of his cell phone shattered the heavy silence, his foggy eyes squinting to read the caller id. 'DAD'. Dean stared long and hard at the screen, his father's name flashing, the shill ringing bearing down on his ears. _'Does he know I lost Sam? Does he know I screwed up?'_ Dean took a long breath before hitting 'ignore'. No, he probably didn't know, and Dean wasn't going to be the one to tell him. He could handle this, he would handle this, he didn't need his father to save him. If John wanted elusive then Dean would give it to him. Sam was his responsibility and his alone, and John would just have to accept that.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: hello all. sorry again about the long wait, i will try to do better. thank you again for all the reviews, they make my day. enjoy the next chapter :)

D: i am in no way affiliated with supernatural

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 9

The atmosphere around him rolled over his soul like a tidal wave, pushing him under, drowning him, suffocating him. Every sensation, every action was magnified a thousand times, boring into his body like spears of ice, filling his heart with a deep, penetrating freeze. He was sure that this would kill him, that his body would simply shatter under the assault, as he diverted all his strength to the simple act of breathing. His eyes were blinded, filled with a darkness deeper then the night, his mind fogging over with a haze he couldn't begin to fight. Everything about him was falling, freezing, dying; his soul screaming for some kind of escape, some form of release. And then, as quickly as it started, everything stopped.

He felt himself breath but knew that he was not the one controlling it. He could feel the ice thawing in his system, but knew that it was not his own body that was warming it. He felt his tall frame turn but was unable to control the action, his eyes still blinded, mind still numb. He could hear words, feel movement, sense a rising fear, but he could not place any of it. Everything was alien, as though he were watching, no feeling, the events from somewhere far off. He knew it wasn't a vision, but for the life of him he couldn't understand what was happening to him, what was slowly destroying him. He tried in vain to call out to his brother but found his voice was lost, his soul unable to control his body, unable to force his throat and mouth to form words. He was trapped, trapped in a shell of his own body, held hostage in his own being, a prisoner to an internal force he couldn't fight.

'Dean_.'_ He heard his own voice echo through his head, felt himself call out to his brother, call out for help. But he knew that the plea had not reached the outside world, his body still ridged, responding only to his invisible attacker. 'Help me._'_ He was met then by a sinister laugh, a hallow, gapping echo that filled his entire mind with a blistering wind, a bitter hatred.

_"You." _He heard his brother speak, his voice barely more then a whisper, his emotions flooding over Sam like a river running its banks. Despair, failure, fear.

"You leave him alone you sick bastard." Sam screamed into the emptiness around him, knowing his assailant could hear him. But he was met by nothing more then that cold laugh as he continued to listen to his brother's voice, his eyes still blind to the world around him, senses still dulled by his bodily prison. What the hell had him, and where had it come from?

_"You're dead."_ Ok, Sam thought, Dean definitely knew what had him, what it was. He seemed both confident and terrified at the same time, something that had always amazed Sam about him brother. Dean's emotions could run the gamete, each one attacking the strong man in rapid succession, but you would never know by looking at him. He kept his face still, his body tense, his expression more imposing then a fortress. The only give away were his eyes. They were deeper then any Sam had ever seen, held in them far more years then his brother had had the chance to live. And that had always angered the younger man. Dean shouldn't have had to face the things he did, his eyes shouldn't be filled with such emptiness, such despair. He was only twenty eight.

And then it hit him; the emotions, the fog, the overwhelming cold. It was the Asura. But how? He continued listening to the conversation around him, the shadow's haunting voice echoing through the room, no doubt passing through his own lips. _'God that must be scary looking.'_ He pushed that though from his mind as he continued to search through his soul, desperate to find some way to defend himself, some way to break free of the suffocating darkness. He left Dean and the demon to their little chat knowing full well that his brother could look after himself, that, if the need arose, Dean could take it out without hesitation. After all, Dean was a hunter, and he knew what had to be done.

And so Sam pushed his mind, explored his soul, searching for some unknown strength, for the power to fight the shadow. He forced his mind into the darkness surrounding him, reached out to the cold encasing him, challenging in, fighting it. He needed to help his brother, he needed to get some sense of the world around him, needed to break free of the Asura, even if only for a moment. The thing was strong, but Sam knew that he was stronger. He had fought it off once, pushed the shadows away as he laid on the forest floor. He had felt it then, digging into him, seeping through every pore, strangling him with every breath. But he had beaten it, he had fought it, he had thrown it away for Dean. And now he just had to find a way to do it again.

Sam Suddenly felt a tremor careen through his soul as a wave of power electrified the air around him. His moment of triumph was shot lived, however, when he realized that he had not caused the energy, not purposefully anyway. At that moment Sam's eyes were ripped open, the scene before him playing out like a movie, though he knew he was seeing it through his own eyes.

A wave of energy, so fierce that Sam swore he could almost see it, shot from his body, hitting Dean in his injured knee. Sam screamed as his brother cried out, falling to the ground from the unforeseen attack. The sinister laughing in his head only grew stronger as the youngest Winchester continued to fight, throwing every ounce of strength he had at the Asura. But the only thing he was succeeding in was making the demon's attacks more powerful. And then he heard it, their conversation ringing in his ears, almost deafening.

_"Even after everything he has done to you, everything they have both done to you, you would never truly harm them, you would never put your needs before theirs."_

_"Your point?"_ Sam silently cheered for his brother as he continued to fight the Asura, his soul quickly tiring as the demon absorbed his energy, channeled his emotions.

_"You're lost, alone."_ No. Sam froze, his fight all but forgotten as he listened to the icy words fall from his own lips, watched as his brother's face fell slightly, his eyes clouding over with a depth and pain Sam prayed he would never have to see again. But the shadow continued, tearing away at his older brother's heart, laughing coldly as its icy breath grazed Sam's neck.

_"Your family, they don't really need you. They have shown you that time, and time again. But still you worship them, still you give everything you have, everything you could have had for them. Why?"_

Sam was screaming at the top of his lungs, trying desperately to reach out to his brother, to tell him that this was all a lie. He loved him, he needed him, and he needed to let Dean know that. He could see the desperation and despair in his brother's eyes, see the older man's fears rising to the surface. And Sam screamed, over and over again, trying with everything he had in him, every breath his body would hold to tell his brother just how much he cared. But nothing was breaking through the walls of his internal prison, not even a whisper, as the Asura continued, staring down at the broken hunter.

_"Because you are so terrified that one wrong step will bring it all crashing down upon you? That one mistake will make them love you less?"_

Sam was on his knees, exhausted, eyes shinning, his heart broken as he watched his brother. Dean was still on the floor, his face pale, eyes deep and hurt. Sam wanted nothing more then to tell the older man that it would all be ok, that this thing was lying. He wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, curse him for believing the demon's lies for even a moment. But there was nothing he could do. He was trapped and growing weaker by the minute, the Asura pulling even the air from him, drowning him in his own grief.

He wanted Dean to save him, to bring him back from this darkness. He wanted the broken man before him to tell him that everything would be all right, even though it should have been the other way around. Dean needed someone to catch him, needed someone to save him from his inevitable fall. And Sam was determined to do just that. But the younger man realized then, that he couldn't, he didn't have the strength, not without his brother telling him that, even after their fall, everything would turn out ok. He needed Dean, and Dean needed him. They were each other's strength and weakness, and Sam found that he couldn't save his brother, not without the other man's help.

And then, as though Dean could hear his brother's silent pleading, feel the despair in his baby brother's soul, he stood, defiantly, staring down the demon. _"I will never stop fighting for them. Repeat my fears to me as much as you want, but I won't stop. Not until every evil thing in this world is dead."_

Sam felt his strength return, felt sweet air fill his starved lungs at his brother's words, at the power behind them. And as he looked, long and hard, into those deep green eyes he felt his very soul growing brighter, freer. He could do this, he could fight this thing, save them both. Dean was there, and he promised he always would be.

Sam knew, deep down, that it was a childish wish, an impossible promise to keep. They were mortal, plain and simple, and someday, something was going to get his brother. He may die at thirty or one hundred. He may die before or after Sam. But the truth of the matter was, that Dean was human, and he would not always be there to fight off the darkness. But at that moment Sam didn't care. His brother was rising to his feet, fighting, and Sam would be damned if he didn't do the exact same thing.

His hopes faded quickly, however, when his renewed energy was ripped from him, sent out of his body like lightning, barreling into his brother, throwing Dean down to the ground once more. And he watched, terrified, as his brother tried in vain to fight the demon, knowing full well that it was his strength, his soul that was harming him.

_"My brother doesn't have that kind of power."_ The words were spoken in defiance, but Sam could feel the underlying uncertainty, feel it clearer then anything he had felt before. His tried body was pulling strength from anywhere it could, unwittingly feeding off his own brother's emotions, drawing Dean's nightmares into his own soul. And he wished for nothing more then to make it stop. He held so much within him, so much anger, so much pain, that Sam was sure it would kill him, drown him in a bottomless sea of despair, in the abyss of his brother's damaged soul.

_"Stop being blind, Dean! Stop turning away from the truth. You know what your brother is, what he is capable of. I can sense it in you, I can feel your fear. They will be killers, all of them, it is just a matter of time."_

_"Not Sam." _

_"Yes, Sam. I can feel it burning within him, struggling to get out. He will fight it, I have no doubt about that, but he will lose. Someday, something is going to push him over that invisible line, and that day he will lose. He will be what he was always meant to be."_

The Asura's words bored into Sam, drove a fear, a reality, deep down into his soul. And he didn't know if the demon was lying or not. The truth was that ever since meeting Max, Sam had been terrified that the same thing would happen to him. He knew he had a temper, knew that it was easy to push him over the edge, and he was sure that he had inherited that from his father. But he had always had someone there to keep him in check, whether it was Dean or Jessica, there had always been someone there. And Sam feared, truly feared the consequences of their absences. What would happen to him if there was no buffer, nothing to keep him thinking straight. Yes, when it came to his brother, Sam was usually the calming voice of reason, but how long could he truly keep that up? How long could his vengeance be kept in control?

Dean promised that as long as he was around nothing bad would happen. And Sam had found comfort in those words, had fallen back into them when the Demon attacked all those month ago. Dean would protect him, keep him safe, just like he always had, and Sam believed in him. But what would happen once Dean was gone? That was a question the younger man asked himself over and over again. And the answers were often too painful to accept.

Sam continued to listen to the conversation as he felt his energy being stripped away, his tired soul weak from fighting, slipping slowly back into unconsciousness as the Asura assumed full control of his body once more. He continued to stare into the defiant eyes of his brother, but he felt his mind clouding, all sound around him beginning to fade. He was losing and he had nothing left to fight with. The demon's attack on Dean had taken a lot out of its young host, and Sam was falling fast, his brother's words echoing through his mind as though they were coming from some distant dream.

_"I will never leave them."_

Sam could feel the last of his strength drain as he watched his brother's limp and broken body fly across the room, a sickening crack echoing through the suffocating silence. "Oh, god. Dean." Sam whispered as he felt his body failing, his vision once again growing dark, as an icy voice filled his tired mind.

"Now, Sammy. Let's fulfill that destiny of yours."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: hello all, update time again. thank you all for the reviews, i am glad you are enjoying the story. i'm sorry the first few chapters have taken so long, these last two months have been incredibly busy at work, but after this week it will calm down. so, get ready for more updates. yay! on with the show.

D: alas, i have nothing to do with supernatural

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 10

Sam could feel the cold air blowing over his face, his hair rustling in the chilling breeze. He tried to move his body, tried to pull his hoodie tighter around himself when he realized that he couldn't move. But he was walking, that much he knew. _'How can I be walking if I can't move?'_ His tired mind was still clouded in haze, eyes unseeing, his whole world dark and cold. He felt wrong, terribly wrong, as though he were empty and full at the same time. He could feel his soul swelling with emotions, overflowing with thoughts and feeling that he knew did not belong to him. He felt as though he were being used, housing something evil behind his soft brown eyes, concealing itself deep within him, controlling him, destroying him.

"Dean." Sam called but his voice merely echoed around the darkness before him, his mind still foggy, actions still slowed. His body, no, his soul was weak, floundering, drowning among all the other souls that were bombarding it. He was lost, lost in himself and he couldn't understand why his brother wasn't there to help him.

"You know perfectly well why your brother is not here." The voice reverberated through his mind, assaulted his ears, pierced his heart. He remembered that voice, that echoing laughter, that freezing breath. Everything about it he knew and despised. And instantly the memories came flowing back into Sam like a freight train, running over his senses in a stampede of sounds and images. The Asura had taken control of his body, and it had used him to hurt his brother, to break him.

"You bastard. What have you done with him?" Sam screamed into the darkness, knowing now that he was still trapped in his own body, his soul pushed aside to make room for another. He could feel the Asura reaching into his mind, grabbing hold of his fears, of his memories. The youngest Winchester tried will all the power he could muster to push it away, ward off the invitation, to keep his private thoughts to himself.

But that simple act of defiance only made him weaker as he felt the demon feeding off of him, build strength within the walls of his host's tired and freezing body. And Sam knew then that this couldn't go on much longer. The Asura was keeping him going, keeping his body moving, breathing. But the simple truth was that Sam Winchester was hurt, his body was failing, freezing, dying, and he wasn't sure that he would have the strength to hold on once the Asura left him. If it ever left him.

"Oh, Sammy. Why so down?" The shadow asked, mockingly, drawing Sam away from his thoughts.

"What the hell do you want with me?"

"Survival. If you really want to blame someone for your current situation, blame your brother."

"This isn't his fault."

"Isn't it? He's the one that blessed the land, bound me to you. If it is not his fault then who's. You know what your father would say, _'you should never have gotten yourself in trouble, you shouldn't have made Sammy put himself on the line like that_."

"Shut the hell up."

The Asura smirked as it continued down the street, not so subtly checking out a young woman as she passed. Sam could feel a fear growing from her when he felt himself leer at her, almost as though he were sizing her up, staring deeply into her soul, his brown eyes blazing through her. And, as in the hotel room, he found his soul unknowingly feeding off the woman, drawing in her fear and discomfort.

"Stop it!"

The shadow only laughed as it continued on, the woman moving to the other side of the street. "Oh my, this is going to be fun."

"Shut up."

"Come now, Sammy. You know, I wouldn't need to feed off of others if you would just come to grips with your true feelings."

"And what would that be?"

"Your brother. How you really feel. That you want to get away from him, want to be free of him. That you don't want to have to care for him his entire life. That someday you are going to leave him again for a real life."

"You liar! Stay out of my head, stop twisting my thoughts around."

"A little late for ultimatums."

"You just stay away from him."

"But what if I don't want to? Your brother means a lot to me. I can sense him, you know, feel him even when he is hundreds of miles away. He is so full of pain, so close to falling, waiting to be taken by something, anything."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"He is alone, Sam. Even now, even with you, he is still alone, and he always will be. You want him to open up to you, want him to confide in you, want to be his hero, but you never truly give him the chance. I can feel it in you, hear your mind screaming it over and over again. You need him to keep you safe, keep you grounded. You want to save him, but at the same time you want him to give you the strength to do so."

"I can fix him."

"Yes, you can. But you don't."

"What?"

"You have the power to save him, to keep him from falling, that much is perfectly clear. But you are too afraid to use your strength, to afraid to be anything but normal, to follow anyone's lead but your own. And that will cost him dearly. You have to decide, Sam, who is more important; you, or your brother?"

"You don't know us."

"Oh, but I do. Just as I know that Dean will inevitably follow us. If he wakes up of course."

"What did you do to him?"

"I did nothing except channel what was already in you. It was your energy, your soul, your pent up anger that threw him across that room. I was merely using the powers you are afraid to wield."

"I would never hurt him!"

"There is more then just physical pain. You hurt your brother long ago, left him behind, and from that moment on he has been broken. Don't tell me you cannot see it, cannot feel it. The brother you walked out on all those years ago is not the brother you returned to. The one you broke, the one you destroyed, he exists only in memories now. What Dean Winchester is now is the shattered remains of a once magnificent soul."

"I can save him."

"Maybe you can, and maybe you can't, that doesn't matter now."

"Why not?"

"Because, you will never be given the chance. I have plans for you, Sam, and by the time your brother finds us, it will be too late."

"And how are you expecting to make him follow along with this plan of yours?" Sam didn't know what else to do, he was terrified and he was sure that the Asura could sense it. It had wanted to trade them before, did it still have the same client waiting? And what did he mean that Dean would be too late, Dean was never too late, he always arrived just at the right time, because that is what Dean Winchester does.

"Does he now?" The shadow chided, hearing Sam's inner thoughts.

"Yes, he does."

"Well, lets put that to the test then. What do you say?" And before Sam could react, before he could even breath, he felt all of his energy being pulled from him, sending his inner body crashing to its knees, his mind reeling and fogging over with a sudden exhaustion. The shadow then focused all of Sam's strength, all of his powers at the busy street before them, sending the energy out across the traffic in waves.

Sam sat in horrified silence as his eyes were once more ripped open, unable to turn away from the scene that was unfolding before him. The Asura had sent the blast straight into a speeding Mac truck, sending the rig careening across the street, the driver honking and swerving as he tried desperately to stop the accelerating truck as it plowed through a red light and into the busy city intersection.

The carnage was too much for Sam to bare, the terror ripping into his soul, beating him, breaking him. He could hear the screams as the truck decimated a mini-van along with several other cars, feel the anguish as a pedestrian was not able to avoid a car as it swerved out of the path of the truck. And he watched, helpless, as his power, his soul, his energy wreaked havoc, stole lives, destroyed futures. And the Asura laughed, cold and deadly, as Sam felt himself beginning to slip away once more, silent tears falling from his eyes, a cold chill taking over his body. He had done this, he had killed, just like the Demon said he would.

And suddenly, more then anything, he needed his brother there, needed him to say that it wasn't really his fault, that he was not to blame. He needed to hear that voice, see the cocky smile, feel that brotherly concern. He needed Dean, his big, strong, older brother to come and tell him that everything was all right, that it was all just another nightmare, and that 'as long as he was around, nothing bad would happen.'

"So tell me, where is your faithful brother now?"

The Asura only smirked as it felt Sam fall unconscious inside it once more, knowing that the blast had taken much of the boy's energy. But he was young, strong, and he would regain himself soon. So the shadow continued on down the street, the screaming and sirens fading as it left the mayhem behind, searching for its next target.

"Like laying bread crumbs." It whispered as it continued on, laying a path of destruction for Dean to follow.

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Dean swerved as he drove down the street, searching for any sign of his brother, his eyes still unnervingly blurry, ears still ringing from his trip into the wall. In all reality he had been unconscious for a little over five hours, and he knew, at that moment, that he should probably be in a hospital. But that wasn't about to happen, not until he found Sam, not until he knew that he would be able to wake up, rested, to the sight of his fidgety and anxious little brother. Until Sam was safe there would be no rest for Dean.

In all honest Dean had no idea where to go, east or west, north or south, at that moment they were all the same, all roads his possessed younger brother could have traveled down. But he was just one person lost in a sea of what ifs, lost in a landslide of trial and error. He didn't have time to look down every road, to follow every path the demon may have taken. Sam had already been gone for five hours, five hours Dean wished he could have had back. He was terrified of what that thing was doing to his Sammy, of the amount of energy it was stealing from the younger man.

The blasts he had been dealt were strong, much stronger then what Sam had used to move the cabinet Max had trapped him behind, and Dean didn't know what that was doing to his brother's soul. The visions took a lot out of him, left him physically weak and sick, and they were nothing compared to the lightning bolts of energy the Asura had been throwing. And he could only guess what the energy bursts were doing to his baby brother's body. And his face, his skin, it was so pale, so cold, so wrong. Sam looked almost near death and Dean prayed with everything he had in him that that wasn't true. He needed Sam, alive and well, and he didn't know what he would do without him. How he would tell his father that he had sat next to him for five month and done nothing, let his brother be taken, bound the demon to him body and soul. And poor Sam never stood a chance. '_No!'_ Dean told himself. '_I won't lose him, not like this.'_

The traffic throughout the city was a mess and, try as he might, every road he turned down was as back up as the next. Dean felt himself growing more and more frustrated, every moment he spent sitting in traffic was another moment lost, another step that carried Sam further away from him. "Hey," Dean called to the car beside him, the other man rolling down his window. "Can you tell me a better route, I'm kind of in a hurry." _That was an understatement._

"Sorry buddy, everything is like this."

"Is it always this bad?"

"No, there was a pretty bad accident up on Camas and Sun highway. Semi blew through and intersection, took out about six cars and a few pedestrians. There's really no other roads around here."

Dean suddenly felt his body grow cold, his blood running like ice through his constricting veins. "Did it just happen?"

"No, about four hours ago. Saw it on the news, truck driver said it felt like lightening hit him, then the rig was controlling itself. I'll tell you what though, there's gonna be quite an investigation."

Dean couldn't think, he couldn't even breath. '_Like a burst of lightning.'_ "Oh god, Sammy." Dean whispered choking on the air that was trying to force its way into his lungs. The Asura had used Sam, it had made him kill, caused that destruction. He could feel his fists tightening around the steering wheel as an unchecked anger grew from somewhere deep inside his being. No one, no one, used Sam like that, ever. He was strong, brave, and caring, and Dean knew, without a doubt, that the younger man would blame himself for this accident, for the deaths, for the rest of his life. And it broke his heart. The kid had been through so much, he deserved better, and when Dean finally found this thing, creepy shadow or not, he was going to tear it apart. Even if he had to march into hell to do it.

"Aw, hell." He heard the man in the car next to him take in a deep breath as he raised the volume on his car stereo.

"What? What happened?" Dean asked, eyes bright, heart refusing to beat as he feared the worst.

"Apartment complex is on fire. They're thinking gas explosion. Ones that got out are screaming that every gas pipe in the place burst at once. Jesus, when it rains it pours, I guess."

"Anyone hurt?"

"I'm assuming. Radio says that there's about fifteen still missing."

"Damn it. Where, where was the fire?"

"Uh, about ten miles from here, up Going to the Sun Highway."

"Are there any other towns up there?"

"What? No, nothing really till you get to Lake McDonald, and that's a good fifty, sixty miles."

"There's nothing?"

"Maybe the odd cabin here or there, but this is a national park, there isn't a whole lot of anything besides hiking trails outside the towns."

"Great. Thanks for the info, I'll try and find another way around."

"Good luck." And with that the man rolled up his window, fighting off the bitter winter weather.

Great, just great, Dean thought to himself, a drive through a national forest in the middle of the winter, and Sam was walking, without a jacket. Dean suddenly felt a new energy swell within him, a new fear driving itself deep into his soul, sure to stay there for the rest of his days. Sam was out in the middle of winter, in Glacier National Park, walking in nothing more then a long sleeve tee-shirt, hoodie, jeans and boots. He was going to freeze to death, be probably was freezing to death, the demon keeping him alive, keeping him moving even after his body would have failed.

And the thoughts of what could happen, what he may really be facing fell down upon him like bricks being thrown from heaven. He had to exorcise the demon, had to get it out of Sam, but he didn't know for sure if he would be saving him or killing him. When he had exorcised the demon from Meg if felt like the right thing to do, '_put the poor girl out of her misery.'_ But at that moment he wasn't sure, he didn't know. Meg had thanked him, had helped him with her dying breath. And he knew, then and there that he couldn't listen to Sammy say good bye, couldn't watch as life slipped from his eyes, as his actions lead to his baby brother's death.

Dean pushed down hard on the accelerator as he made it to the open detour, his car headed out onto the desolate Going to the Sun Highway. He needed help though, he couldn't go in blind, he needed a plan. He had to find Sam fast, had to save him, before it was time to simply put his battered soul to rest.

TBC

A/N2: i know i had a road called Shadow Pine Highway in my last story. Going to the Sun Highway is real however, it follows the banks of Lake McDonald in Glacier National Park, Montana.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: here it is, chapter 11, hope you all enjoy it. thank you all again for the reviews, they make my day. let me know what you think of the newest chapter. :) ps. i have decided that ed and harry have known each other since high school. :)

D: dont own supernatural.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 11

He sat there staring at the computer in front of him, the same number staring back as he glared at the screen, willing it to change. Everything was going wrong, their new plan was falling apart, just like they had time and time again. The last video they had been able to post of the Winchesters was their mishap in the river, and since then, the number of hits to their sight was falling, fast. They were losing people's interest, losing their lime light, and he was desperate to find a way to hold onto his fifteen minutes of fame.

"So." Harry began, breaking Ed from his silent anger, his voice ringing in the confined space of their trailer. "You think maybe we can give them a sister that talks to dead people? Or maybe, have Buffy be their long lost cousin. What do you think about that?"

"I think that one: it's stupid and two: it's been done before. We need to make this real, man. What ever happened to just the brothers driving around hunting ghosts?"

"Ed, no one is gonna wanna watch that. I mean, Buffy, Angel, the Halliwell girls, they want styling young professionals locked in an epic battel for the good of all man kind." Harry's voice grew louder and more theatrical as he pitched his grand idea to Ed, his arms motioning so fast he almost knock himself from the chair.

"Dude, those stories have been pitched thousands of times, we need something knew."

"Ok, maybe they are superhuman, half-demons from the future. Think Dark Angel meets the supernatural world."

"Harry!"

"Or, we could pitch a movie like House of Wax, but with them?"

"Harry!"

"What?"

"Cool your jets, dude. Lets just stick with the plan, write some scripts about what they actually do."

Harry looked down at the pen and paper in his hands sheepishly, mumbling something Ed couldn't quite make out as his partner's black and blue eyes glazed over in a sort of ill placed horror.

"What did you say?"

"I said, what if Dean and Sam find out. What if they try to break more then my nose?"

"They won't hurt you."

"How the hell do you know?"

"Because, guys like that are all talk. Don't you remember high school?"

"I try not to."

"Remember Terry Lafferty? The guy that used to lock you in your locker at lunchtime?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that dude lost a fight to a girl, remember."

"Ed, he did not lose the fight, he turned a corner and got hit by his girlfriend's back pack."

"Still, big tough guy like that, taken down by a cheerleader's book bag. Like I always say, tough guys are all talk."

"Yeah, well, you keep telling yourself that. I, on the other hand, am gonna do what they say and stay out of their way."

"Exactly why you were always the one in the locker."

"That's because you can run faster."

A sudden pounding made both men jump out of their seats and scream, the fist banging against the door with enough force to make their small trailer physically shudder. Harry stared, both eyes swollen and black at the rattling door as Ed pushed himself further back into the trailer. They remained silent for a few moments as the banging grew louder and harsher, both men afraid of what lay on the other side, wondering if their little marriage counseling had failed to destroy the ghosts.

"I know you're in there. Let me in or I'm gonna break down the door!"

"Hey, we did what you told us to. We deleted everything, so just leave us alone."

"Open the god damn door!"

"You'll hurt us if we let you in." Harry chimed in, clutching a pillow to his stomach like it was a shield.

"I'll hurt you if you don't let me it. Now open the damn door."

"Fine, but I know karate." Ed called as he made his way to the door, puffing out his chest as he swung it open. "What do you want?"

"Let me in."

"Why?"

"Because I need your help, and I don't really think I can keep standing too much longer."

Ed stared wide eyed at the hunter before him, finally taking a good look at the tall man. Dean's eyes were strangely unfocused, his shoulders slumping slightly, his lean body swaying as dried blood flaked away from the back of his neck and jacket. He really did look like the walking dead. "Sure, man. What happened to you?"

"My brother." Dean began weakly as he climbed into the trailer, Ed having to pull him up the steps, his injured knee locking and popping with each step he took. Harry scooting further back into the structure, obviously still a little wary of the figure before him, the pillow still clutched defensively in front of him. Dean rolled his eyes and smiled as he nearly fell into his seat, eyes closing immediately while he tilted his head back, his face and skin pale and sweaty. "He's possessed by a demon that trapped us a few months back." He stated quietly, eyes still closed.

"What do you want us to do about it?" Ed asked, staring intently at the injured man before him, wondering how he was still awake, let alone walking and talking. '_Maybe he isn't all talk.'_

"I can't fight it alone, it almost killed me last time."

"And you want _us_ to help?" Harry asked, eyes growing wide as though he were a five year old who's dad just asked him to help with an incredibly adult chore. "Like, hunt with you!"

"No, definitely not. No offense guys, but well, you really suck as hunters."

"Then what do you want from us?" Ed asked smugly, completely content to listen to Dean's story, then throw him out on his ass.

"I need your site."

"Huh?"

"Sam and me, we're a good team, the best. Who better to fight the demon that has him then me and my brother."

"You lost me. I thought your brother was being possessed?"

"He is."

"So, how are you gonna fight with him, against him?"

"I need another Sam. A Tulpa Sam."

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Sam's soul awoke slowly, the suffocating darkness still surrounding him, still pushing in at him from all sides, crushing him. Everything was a blur of pain and fury, his heart aching, mind spinning. It took him several long minutes to remember the day, to feel again, and when he did everything around him came crashing down.

He had killed, his powers had destroyed lives, young and old. He may not have done it himself, but he was still responsible, still the one to blame. It was his power, his soul, his life force that was the weapon, and he knew then that he would never be the same. He had no idea that his body housed such a wealth of power, that his spirit was the cause of such an unworldly strength. Yes, he had visions, and yes, he had moved the cupboard, but those acts were nothing compared to this. He had sent a semi careening through traffic, taken the lives of innocent people, of children. And he wasn't sure that he could live with the consequences. He had become what the Demon told him he would, what 'fate' told him he would, and it was destroying him.

And suddenly, his soul shrank, dipped, faded. He had fought against others for so long, always done the opposite of what they told him he should, always tried to do more then people told him he was capable of. He wanted to fight fate, he truly did, but the more he fought, the harder he pushed, the further into fate he seemed to fall. Everything he did, every breath he took, seemed to bring him one step closer to his destiny, to what the rest of the world told him he would be. Everyone except for Dean, that is.

His brother told him to be a hunter, told him to respect his family, to be there for them, but that was all. Dean had never told him to be one of the Demon's 'chosen' children, he had never told him that he should accept his powers. His brother had simply told him to be himself, to be a Winchester, to be his brother. That was all Sam had to be, but somehow, somewhere along the way he had become a pawn in a very deadly came. But his brother's words, his brother's faith still shined through brighter then his so-called destiny. He was a Winchester, and he was Dean's little brother, and he wasn't about to give that up for anything, not even fate.

So, this time, when Sam awoke he remained quiet, hiding himself deep within the darkened prison of his own body. He had to try and read the demon, figure out what it wanted without it stealing anymore of his strength. He had to have a plan. Sam suddenly felt a small rush of understanding as he sat there in his internal darkness, ideas flowing through his mind, as his thoughts whisper quietly in his soul, trying to stay under the demon's radar. The Asura was using him, but no one ever said that he couldn't use the Asura. And so, slowly and delicately Sam tried to tap into the shadow's energy, mold his own soul into his enemy's. It had said before that it could feel Dean, even miles and miles away, so maybe, just maybe, Sam could feel him too.

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"You want a what?"

"I want a Tulpa Sam."

"Why?"

"I just told you."

"Yeah, but. You have to have a better plan then that." Ed stared at Dean as though he were about to sprout wings, his eyes narrowing as he tried to read the older man's impassive face. "Are you trying to trick me?"

"Look, are you gonna help me or not, because I don't have a whole lot of time here."

"You do realize that it won't be anything like your brother."

"So you can do it?" Dean asked eagerly, neatly side stepping Ed's statement. '_How can it not be like him?'_

"Of course we can. We have a page just for Sam, I can put the symbol on it."

"I need him to be as much like the real Sam as possible."

"How so?" Harry asked, his voice wavering as he spoke up.

"Like the tapes you have. You've met him."

"There's no way we can recreate an entire soul. It's just going to be bits and pieces of a story." Harry continued, still trying to talk some sense into Dean.

"So?"

"So, he can help you fight, but..." Harry trailed off, his voice growing weaker as Dean's eyes narrowed.

"But what?" He really didn't have time for this, his little brother was dying.

"But, if you can't get to your brother in time, don't expect the Tulpa to be able to take his place. Once this is over, Sam or no Sam, you are going to have to kill it."

"I know." Dean began, cursing himself as his voice cracked, his tired body slumping further into the chair. Ever since the idea had first struck him Dean told himself that he would understand the difference, that he would be able to handle the decision. But the closer it came to reality, the longer Dean was away from his real brother, the more the uncertainty began to settle in. He knew that it wasn't going to be Sam, not really. But would he really be able to destroy something that was so much like him, that was basically an imagined version of him. And would he really be able to do it if Sam, his Sammy, died.

He had told himself that he would, but the more he though about it, the more the lines began to blur. '_At least it would be something.'_ He told himself, at least it would still be Sam, if only part of him. At least it would be something. He had seen the younger man's skin before he left, seen how pale it was, his lips were blue and trembling, his eyes dull, body shivering. And that had been nearly six hours ago, before the demon had left with him, walked through the freezing winter day without a jacket, without anything. He kept telling himself that he would get there in time, that he always got there in time, but a growing fear had taken hold of his crumbling soul. What if he was already six hours too late? What would he face when he finally found Sam?

He forced his mind back to reality, back to the two men sitting before him, staring at him, as though they could see the inner turmoil boiling beneath the surface. But they didn't know how much he needed Sam, no one did, and he didn't know if he would be able to lose him. '_At least it would be something.'_

"Do you? It's going to look and sound like your brother, but it won't be him."

"I just need a little help. I'll get to my real brother in time, then I'll take care of the Tulpa, don't worry. I just need a little help, that's all."

"All right. We'll post the story, but it will take a few hours."

"Thanks."

Dean sat in the dark and dust filled library, the fireplace sending warm tendrils of light across his tired face. His green eyes burned and blurred as he stared down at the page before him, the same page he had been staring at for the last three hours. But his mind was not it the small, warm room, not with the book before him, not even with the town he sat in. At that moment, everything except his body was far, far away, lost in the thoughts he had been fighting all day.

It had been nine hours since Sam had left, nine hours out in the cold wilderness with the demon. And at that moment, he could have sworn that he felt his brother, felt his fear and his exhaustion, but also his comforting presence. While Dean knew he was sitting in the warm library, searching the area for local cabins or campsites, he could still feel an unbelievable cold, a chill he had not felt since Washington. It was the icy hands of the Asura, the bitter chill of its essence, and Dean could feel it all around him, boring into him, reaching out to him. And in the middle of it all he could feel his brother, weak and fading, but still there, still calling for help. And it made Dean want to scream, to yell to Sam that he didn't know how to help, that he was sorry he had put him in danger in the first place. But most of all he wanted to tell Sam to hold on, to stay alive, to fight, because he didn't have the strength to bury his baby brother.

"Excuse me, Sir." A small voice behind Dean made the hunter jump, his aching body turning quickly in the seat, hand reaching for the gun beneath his jacket. He let his body relax, though, as he was met with the equally frightened blue eyes of the petite librarian.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I didn't mean to scare you, but the library is closing."

"Oh, it's ok. Thanks." Dean shook himself and stacked the books neatly on the table before placing his journal and papers back into his brother's leather bag. Dean then maneuvered his stiff body towards the crutches he had salvaged from the trunk. He stared long at the offending objects as well as the bulky metal brace that circled his knee before gathering himself and heading back towards the impala.

He had tried to throw his crutches and braces away a few weeks before, but Sam had insisted they keep them, just in case. The younger man had even climbed through the dumpster by the small apartment they had rented when Dean had taken in upon himself to dispose of any sign of his injury. But, at that moment, Dean was glad his younger brother had been so persistent. The truth of the matter was that the Asura's attack had injured his knee once again, and, without the brace and crutches, the older hunter knew that he would be crawling to Sam's rescue instead of walking.

He pushed the memories out of him mind as he made his way through the library doors, the crutches almost natural to him. '_I did spend four months with the things.'_ He told himself with a smug grin, Dean Winchester could master anything. He shook himself again as he tried to focus, the lingering cold still wrapping around him, Sam's presence still eerily close. There were several places he believed the Asura could hide, the most promising being a group of cabins that had been closed down for the winter. They were out of the way, and stable, the perfect place to hide a captive.

As he rounded the corner Dean froze, his heart clenching, breath stalling, as he stared at the impala sitting before him just as he had left it, or so he thought. But there, right before his eyes, sitting calmly in the passenger seat, was Sam.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

D: dont own them, just having fun.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 12

Dean stood there, silent and still, his green eyes staring at the black car before him, transfixed. It couldn't be, it wasn't possible, his mind was playing tricks. '_It can't be.'_ But then, there he was, sitting in the impala as though nothing had happened, as though it were any regular day, any regular hunt. But this wasn't any day, wasn't any hunt, it was in fact one of the worse days of Dean's life. He had lost his dying brother, let a demon take him, and try as he might to keep up a brave front, Dean was cracking. And Sam sitting calmly in his car wasn't helping.

The older Winchester slowly approach his beloved car, his injured body surprisingly agile as he stealthily made his way towards his supposed to be possessed brother. Sam didn't move, didn't even flinch as he continued to stare down at something in his hands. And instantly, despite himself, Dean felt his senses calming and racing all at once. It was Sam, there was no other way for the boy in the car to be described. He wasn't possessed, he wasn't dying, he wasn't hurt in any way, he was just normal, just Sam.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam asked, not looking up.

"Damn." Dean whispered, straightening as he made his way towards the passenger side window. "How did you know I was there?"

"I wasn't born yesterday."

"How long have you been here?" Dean asked, his brother's back still facing him, looking through something in the car. The older Winchester could feel his heart clenching, feel the bile rising in his throat. That voice, his brother's voice, was vacant, hollow, empty, and, Dean cringed, sounded as though there were no air behind it, the sound just echoing in from space. It was the Tulpa, he knew before he even laid eyes on the younger man, he could just feel it in the air. And it was disturbing.

"Dean, did you get hit over the head or something? You told me to wait here while you went to get some info. Which, by the way, was like an hour ago." Sam stated angrily, turning in the passenger seat to face his older brother.

Dean recoiled instantly, stepping back a good two feet when Sam turned his gaze upon him. His face was just so vacant, so lacking of emotions. And his eyes, oh god his eyes, there were no pupils, just slate black orbs floating on white. And, if not for the crutches, Dean was sure that the sight would have brought him to his knees. It was his brother, there before him, sitting in the impala just where he was supposed to be. At least, that is what Dean's mind kept chanting.

But this thing, this being, was not Sam, not even close. It was like a one dimensional version of a full spirit, shattered pieces of a complete person. He had no memories, no emotions, no thoughts besides what people imagined for him, what people dreamed up that he should be. He was like a character come to life, a person with no reality outside his own short story, and it was downright frightening. But still, somewhere beyond all that, deep within Dean's heart and soul there was a voice, quiet yet persistent that was now echoing in his ears. '_At least it's something.'_

"No." Dean began after a few moments, the Tulpa still staring at him, vacant eyes marring his brother's face. "I just wasn't expecting you to sit around and wait for me."

"What was I supposed to do?" It asked flatly, not quite a question, but not really a snarky comment either.

"I don't know, you could have gotten coffee, or walked around."

It just sat there, silent and still, as though it were at a complete loss, waiting for some kind of command, like his brother's last statement had not even been spoken. '_Oh, god.'_ Dean thought, his mind suddenly reeling. This Sam, this tulpa before him was nothing other then the videos and the two paragraphs the Hell Hounds had managed to post. It was a ghost, a shadow of something supposedly alive, stuck in an endless loop of its final actions. This Sam didn't understand coffee, didn't understand anything outside of the hunt or the few bits of information Ed and Harry had managed to find.

"You could have done research." He stated, as though he had never made the comment about the coffee. That seemed to do the trick as the Tulpa flashed to life once more, staring hollowly at his brother, not a hint of sarcasm or banter. And Dean felt his heart shattering. He had to find his Sam, he had to save him. This tulpa was going to drive him mad, make the loss of his own brother even worse, and Dean suddenly found himself wishing that he had never come up with the idea in the first place.

"I didn't really feel like it. What did you find?"

"There's a group of cabins up Going to the Sun Highway, about twenty miles from here, I think that would be our best bet."

"You think the demon is there."

"Yeah." Dean answered slowly, the Tulpa shouldn't know anything about that.

"Well, don't get yourself almost killed this time."

_'Oh, this was just great,_' Dean thought to himself, '_The Hell Hounds must have added in what I told them.'_ Dean took a few deeps breaths before climbing into the car, the Tulpa staring incredulously at his crutches and brace.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"The demon, the one that almost killed me. Threw me off a cliff." But all he was met with was that empty stare. "I twisted it on my way into the library, there's a clinic next door, that's what took me so long."

"You should be more careful."

"Yeah, I guess I should." Dean answered half heartedly, the seriousness of his pseudo brother's tone too much for him. He needed to fix this, and fast.

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Sam could feel the anguish rolling off his brother in waves, the essence of the older man's soul reaching to him, flooding him from however far away the man actually was. He wanted to help him, to reach out to him, to comfort him, and it broke his heart knowing that he couldn't. But he had to stay hidden, had to keep what little strength he had managed to gain to himself. He knew Dean was on his way, knew he was looking for him, he could feel it, sense it in the other man's soul, and Sam knew that the best thing he could do now was hold on.

Something had effected his brother, something had startled him, scared him; he could feel it in the air, in the energy his starving soul was feeding off of. He didn't know what it was, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to find out. It was a rare thing to see his brother afraid, to see the older man as anything other then a born warrior. That was who Dean was, who his brother was. He was strong and brave and never afraid. At least, that was who his older brother was when they were still small children, and Sam was amazed that his view of the man had never changed. Dean was his big brother, always, whether Sam was twenty four or four. Dean was just Dean, his little brother's larger then life hero.

Over the past two years however, ever since his brother showed up on his doorstep, Sam had seen the hidden side of Dean more often. And he wished for nothing more then the power to fix it, to take away the pain, to help him through this life, just like Dean had done for him. Dean deserved more then he got, much more, and Sam was determined to let him know. He wouldn't lose his life to the Asura, wouldn't let his brother walk through this world alone. Dean had always defined himself by what he did, by those around him. He was Sam's big brother, and the younger man would never take that title away from him.

"Ah, Sam, so strong."

"Leave me alone." Sam answered defiantly, his world still shrouded in darkness. He was cold, so unbelievably cold. He could feel the chill surrounding his body, feel it drive itself deep into his soul. The Shadow had stopped walking nearly an hour ago, Sam unsure of the distance it had managed to travel, or even what direction the thing had gone. But, the cold had thankfully lessened, though only slightly, and Sam guessed that they were no longer outside. Though where he was was still a mystery.

"I am you, so how could I leave you alone?"

"You're not me!"

"I'm a part of you."

"Not for long."

"Why, because Dean will save you. Dean will make everything better again? Please, I can feel your brother, even at this very moment. He is broken, failing, falling. He will not save you."

"Wanna bet."

"Such blind faith, what do you see in that boy that wardens such obedience, such loyalty. He has made so many mistakes."

"He does the best he can."

"Like your father? He did the best he could and you turned your back on him. So, tell me, what makes Dean so much different?"

"He's my brother."

"And he did this to you, he bound me to you. And then he sat next to you in that god forsaken car for five months and did nothing."

"He didn't know."

"But he should have. He's a hunter, one of the best. He should have known."

"Don't blame him."

"Why? Because he doesn't deserve it, because everyone else already blames him for things that are beyond his control? You can have so much more then him."

"I don't want more."

"You're lying. You want a family, you want a home. You want normal."

"No I don't. I want this."

"I know about the Demon. I know that it wants you, wants all the children like you. You still crave normal, still long for your Jessica, still wish Dean never pulled you from that fire. I can feel it in you, growing in you. You wish you could go back to that night and save her, or die with her, anything other then this. You tell yourself that you want this life, need your brother, because you don't think you will ever be able to have anything else."

"Shut up!"

"Tell me, Sam. What would you do if I told you that wasn't true? If I told you there was a way that you could have Jessica back, that you could have a normal life? Would you take it?"

"What's the catch?" The logical part of Sam's mind knew not to listen, knew the demon was lying, ripping into his soul for its own gain. But his heart was screaming at him to take the chance, to save his love, to have what he wanted more then anything. He could wake up in the morning and be safe, be loved, be whole. And he wanted that, so much more then he would ever show. It was in every fiber of his being, every breath his body took. He could be loved, be normal, be a person again, and the Asura could give him just that. And, for an instant, no cost was too high for Sam to pay.

"No catch. Everything will be like it was before. Law school, marriage, children. And your family secret still be a secret. Sam, I can give you back your life at Stanford and then you will be free of me. We will both win. I can help you, Sam, but only if you let me."

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

_thank you all again for the reviews, the really make my day. hope you enjoy the next chapter. Happy Halloween everybody :)_

D: i dont own supernatural :(

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 13

Sam's soul sat, silent and lost, his mind reeling as his heart cried out for it all to be possible. '_There has to be a catch, there's always a catch.'_ It was too much for his senses to take, his weakened body beginning to shut down as he played over everything in his mind, the images dancing before his eyes like a movie, his perfect world there before him. He could have her back, he could have his Jessica back with him, for always. And he didn't know if he would be able to pass that up.

Everything for the past two years had been a journey for the young man, a quest not only to find the thing that killed his love, but one to forget her as well. It had been an easy choice to take to the road with his brother, but hell, he would have chosen anything if it meant he had to think of poor Jessica less. He had failed to save her, and even now, two years after the fact, his heart and soul would not let him forget it. If it wasn't for him, she would be alive, and safe. But now, here at this very moment, he had the chance to give her a future, to give her life. And, though he himself may no longer deserve her love, she deserved her life. He could give her back everything she had wanted, save her from a fate that wasn't hers. And at that moment, Sam would have given up anything to do just that.

"What do you get out of the deal?" He asked quietly. He knew not to make deals with demons, every fiber of his being telling him to stop listening, to fight the memories, but he found himself unable to believe it. He could fix something, bring back an innocent soul.

"You won't even notice you have lost it."

"I'm not going to agree to anything until I know the full bargain."

"You spent years without it, the thought never crossing your mind, the memories never darkening your door step. You were happy, the happiest you had ever been in your life. You never thought of him, not even once."

"No!" Sam shouted, finally realizing just what Jessica's future would cost, what his happiness would cost.

"I can feel it in your heart, a part of you is still willing to make the deal."

"I would never."

"Never what, leave him behind, sacrifice him for a normal life."

"I won't give him up."

"But you will have Jessica in return. She is the only reason you hold onto him so dearly. After her death you were lost, hurting, alone. He took all that away, he cared for you. So, tell me, will you really need him, will you really cling to him the way you do now if your lovely Jessica were back?"

"I will not give up one life for another."

"But that is exactly what you are doing. By choosing him, you are denying her. So the question is, which life matters most?"

Sam couldn't answer, he didn't know. He was being asked to chose between the two people that mattered the most to him, the two people his entire life revolved around, and he knew that he couldn't do it. He couldn't chose between Jessica or Dean, couldn't live with himself knowing that he had been the death of them, that he had destroyed them. He would rather die himself.

A hollow laughter resonated inside his head, the Asura's voice echoing through his mind, it's sickening smile almost visible to his blind eyes.

"Oh, Sammy, your family makes things so easy."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He wanted to fight, to get up and scream, destroy the darkness before him, but he found that he was far too weak, his soul barely having the strength to stay awake.

"Your brother his nearly here."

"What?"

"Your brother is coming for you. You know, he is no match for me. I can take him now, but it will be painful, or you can take me up on my offer, I swear he will not feel a thing."

"You're lying."

"Do you really want to test that theory with your brother's life?"

"I won't let you take his soul."

"I don't want his soul. When I take him, it will be alive."

"You cannot have him! I won't let you."

"We will see when he arrives. You can only fight me for so long, Sammy. You can either take my deal and save your girlfriend's soul, or both you and your brother will die. It's your choice."

A weight, instant and unbearable, suddenly overwhelmed the young hunter as the air around him grew and shifted. His senses were mangled, every inch of his mind torn into fibers, as a heavy, earth shifting force entered the secluded cabin. Sam's eyes were involuntarily ripped open as the faint lights began to flicker above him, the air around growing into a gale, forcing its way into his tired mind. And the young man knew it, recognized the energy, felt it as it dove into him, coursed through his mind and soul, delved into his memories.

The Asura had been waiting, playing with Sam's emotions as it fed, bargaining with a power it did not possess. And Sam suddenly understood, the demon's words floating back to him, echoing again through the woods around a forgotten Washington highway. It had wanted to trade, and the terrifying reality came falling down on Sam like bricks; it still did, and he was pretty sure he knew who the client was.

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The car ride had been long and silent, the Tulpa staring blankly out the front window, as though it were waiting for something it understood, waiting to live again. It was almost like watching a human being without a soul, everything about the young man was real, that much was for certain, but there was nothing inside of him, nothing more substantial then skin and bones. And the worst part of it all was that the thing didn't breath. It just sat there, its vacant slate eyes staring forward, as its body sat unnervingly still, and Dean was sure that, had he checked, he would not have found a heartbeat. It wasn't alive, that much was painfully obvious, but still somewhere in the back of Dean's mind, it was still a piece of Sam.

The road to the cabins was snow covered and icy, the area all but shut down for the winter season. Dean knew that his car would not be able to handle the deep snow that had overtaken the path, the blanket laying as much and three feet deep in places. He should have guessed really, there was no need to plow or shovel the area as the homes wouldn't open again for at least another few months. But he still didn't like it. The walk to the cabins was a good four or five hundred meters from the highway, the area more remote then he had originally guessed.

He parked the impala as far up the road as he dared and let out a long, tired sigh as he killed the engine. He really was getting tired.

"What's wrong?" The Tulpa asked, snapping out of its daze as though not even a moment had passed.

"Nothing. We're here." Dean answered curtly as the two exited the car, neither really dressed for trekking through the snow.

"You sure you're ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He answered shortly, still unable to call the thing by his brother's name.

"Are you gonna be able to fight like that?" The Tulpa asked as it eyed Dean suspiciously, the older man moving stiffly in the cold.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. And who knows, maybe I'll be able to predict rain storms. Dad would love that, two psychics in the family." Dean joked, patting his knee as he looked up at the Tulpa Sam forgetting for an instant what the thing would and wouldn't know. But instead of being met with his little brother's goofy grin, he found himself staring into deep slate eyes positively shining with rage. And instantly Dean knew his mistake. Sam's powers were a secret, therefor, the Tulpa would know nothing about them. And, at that moment, Dean found that he had no idea how the creature would react, or what the doppelganger really believed.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Forget it." Dean answered, backing up slightly, hoping that, like everything else, the Tulpa's mind would just reset like he hadn't said anything. But, Dean thought, what would be the chances that that would happen when he wanted it to.

"Who the hell are you?" It asked as its eyes grew darker, the Tulpa pulling itself to Sam's full height, which, Dean noticed then, was taller then his baby brother was supposed to be. '_Great, remind me to kick Ed and Harry's ass.'_

"I'm Dean, your awesome big brother."

"No." It answered raising a .45 to his brother's chest. "I don't think so."

"Whoa, easy, lets not act stupid." Dean began, raising his hands in alarm. He had wanted the Tulpa to show emotion sure, but this was not really the desired outcome. And Dean really, really didn't want to get shot by Sam, again.

"I'm not the one being stupid at the moment."

"Hey!"

"I'm gonna ask you one more time. Where the hell is my brother?" Sam's voice was so cold, so menacing that it made Dean physically recoil, the older man sensing an unbridled anger growing beneath the entities familiar surface that was absolutely terrifying. At that moment, Dean was truly afraid of the man standing before him.

"Why won't you believe me?"

"Because, my brother would never suggest, even for an instant, that our family was in any way supernatural. The supernatural are the enemies, end of story."

"Do you realize how strange that sounds coming from you." Dean couldn't help himself. His little brother had always been the voice of reason, always been the one defending things, even if they were the enemy. He had called Dean on his morals more then once, and even given their father a lesson in the fine lines between what was right and what was wrong. But this, this thing standing before him now, was like an insult to everything the real Sam stood for.

In Sam's mind there was so much more then just good and evil, so many colors other then black and white, and that was something that Dean had always admired about him. He was always cool headed, always fair, always trusting. And that aspect of him barely wavered. Even when it came to killing the Demon or saving his father, Sam had still chosen to preserve life, still chosen love over revenge. And Dean knew, deep down, that he always would. And Dean suddenly found himself angry at the Hell Hounds. He told them to make Sam normal, like the person they had met, but instead they decided to go 'Die Hard' on him. He was really going to have to talk to them when this was all over.

The sound of a gun cocking brought Dean crashing back to reality, his brother's face still twisted in rage as it stared him down.

"I slipped up, it was a bad joke." He offered weakly. He could see the first of the cabins down the road, almost feel his little brother's presence as he stared past the Tulpa. He was so close, too close to let an imaginary version of his brother shoot him with a very real gun.

"Do I look like an idiot to you?"

'_If you don't have anything smart to say, don't say anything at all.'_ Dean could almost hear the real Sam's voice in his ears, trying once again to keep him from doing or saying something stupid. "No, man. Look, I'm Dean, I swear. I have his necklace."

"So?"

"Uh, I have the scars from where the Asura touched me."

"What?"

"God, damn it this is annoying. What will it take for you to believe me?"

"Nothing. I know my brother better then anyone, and your not him."

Dean had only a second to get out of the way when he saw the Tulpa's muscles tense, the bullet grazing the side of his head as he fell to the ground. He kicked out hard, catching Sam in the shins, sending the creature to the ground. Dean scrambled to his feet as the Tulpa rebounded, grabbing the older man's right leg and twisting, his knee popping and grinding with the movement. Dean cried out as he fell to the ground, his leg throbbing, anger growing in his soul. He had not come all this way to be beat up my something imaginary.

The Tulpa regained its footing quickly, kicking Dean hard in the chest before pulling the injured man to his feet, the creature standing a good six inches taller. Its eyes were so cold, so empty that Dean felt as though his heart would freeze, the look burning deep into his memory, haunting the older boy.

"I'll show you what happens when you mess with a Winchester." The Tulpa breathed, its voice cutting the air like shards of glass, its anger so great that Dean was sure it could shoot fire.

"Same here." Dean ground back through clenched teeth as he swung a crutch at the Tulpa, sending it sprawling to the ground, as a second well placed hit plunged it into unconsciousness.

"Damn." Dean mumbled as he limped to the trunk, clutching tightly to his remain crutch. "I've gotten my as kicked by my baby brother twice in one day." And with one more look at the unconscious Tulpa he heaved the heavy duffel to his shoulder and began the walk to the cabins, his determination growing stronger with each step.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

_i am so, so sorry about the long wait, but writing this chapter was like pulling teeth. hope you all like it, let me know what you think._

D: just in this for fun.

** BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 14

The air around Sam continued to grow heavy, suffocating the young hunter as he laid trapped, a prisoner in his own body, the shadow wrapped around him, freezing him, killing him. But he knew he couldn't give up, he knew he had to fight, had to hold on. The Asura wanted Dean, needed Dean, and Sam was not about to let that happen. His older brother had given up everything for him, turned his back on the life he could have had to protect him, and he never once complained. Sam knew, without a doubt, that his brother would lay down his life for him, make the deal, if it meant that Sam could be safe, happy, normal. And that broke the younger man's heart. Dean never thought of himself, never believed his own soul to be worth as much as those around him, and Sam was determined to prove to him that he was wrong, to save him from himself.

"Why don't you save her, Sam? Why don't you give him up? You know that is what he would chose." The demon's icy breath wrapped around the young man, cutting into his mind like razors, tearing into his heart like claws. He could feel it smiling, sense it laughing, as it fed off of him once more.

"Stay out of my head!"

"Oh, child." It laughed, its hallow voice condescending as it drove into Sam. "You fight so hard for that brother of yours, vow to save him at all costs. But that is not possible, and you know it. Without me your body will die. Can't you feel it weakening, your soul already beginning to slip away? And once he sees you, once he knows what is at stake, he will lay down his life freely."

"No!"

"You do not have a choice. What do you think would happen to him if you died in his arms? What do you think would become of Dean Winchester if he were no longer a brother? I am saving him, Sam, saving you both. Neither of you chose this life, and you are both growing so tired, I can feel it. Let me help you, Sam."

"You aren't giving us anything, you aren't helping us."

"You would not remember the bargain."

"That doesn't matter, he will still suffer."

"But you won't know, you will be happy and safe with Jessica."

"There are things in this world that are more important than me. Dean deserves more."

"I know he does, but he will not get it."

"I won't let him die for me."

"Then tell me, how are you going to stop him?"

A sudden, overwhelming cold tore through Sam's body as the darkness before him began to lift. He could feel himself falling against the cold stone floor of the cabin, feel the deep winter wind blowing over his exposed skin, his heart slowing, tired body shaking violently, as the shadow of a man began to form before his eyes.

He could see it again, just as he had in the forest all those months ago, its form so human yet still so utterly wrong. But, even though he could see it, sense it standing before him, he knew that it was still inside him as well, still holding his body, keeping him alive, awake, waiting. Its cold gray eyes bored into the young man before it, its hatred of the boy so great that he could feel it rolling off the shadow in waves. And Sam could feel his power draining as the form grew before his eyes, his body falling limp to the floor, the Asura still controlling him, still playing puppet master. And suddenly he knew, as every memory, every emotion, every bit of himself flashed through his tired mind, that he was going to die.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"I thought that this is what the bad guy was supposed to do."

"Go to hell."

"You know, we're not so different, you and I."

"I'm nothing like you."

"No? We both kill, we both fight the forces around us to stay alive. Do you think I chose to be this? I am just doing what I need to do to survive."

"You're killing people."

"And you are killing the supernatural."

"It's not the same." Sam coughed, his body struggling for every breath, fighting itself with every word as he sat on his knees, arms wrapped around his chest.

"You are killing my kind, just like I am killing yours."

"Spare me the lecture. If you hate me so much then why don't you just kill me right now? I won't make the deal and you know it."

"Ah yes, but then, your brother wouldn't have much of a deal to make if you were dead."

"What?"

"I told you, your brother is on his way here, and he is close. And you cannot stop him."

Sam tried to move, tried to push forward, to rush the shadow, fight it as fury built up inside of him, growing out from him with each passing moment, but he was still held tightly to the spot. The young hunter could feel the shadow as it rushed at him instead, its touch like fire against Sam's skin, breath like a frozen river running over him. And as it grew, Sam could feel the world around him closing in, his heart seizing in his chest, fear taking over his shaking form.

"SAM!." Dean's voice echoed through the stagnant, suffocating air, like rain falling on desert sands, the older man's voice sounding so loud against the heavy silence that had held Sam prisoner for so long. And Sam would have wished for nothing more at that moment then to call back to him, tell him to run, to get away, to keep himself safe. But no air would pass over his parched lips as the shadow tightened its hold, the room remaining deathly silent, save for his brother's ever nearing voice.

"Brother verses brother. How poetic. Let's see what happens when he finds his precious little Sammy." The Asura smiled as it misted away into the growing wind, though Sam could still feel it wrapped around his body, feeding of off him, off of Dean. He couldn't let it win, he wouldn't. Dean had protected him all his life, given up everything he could have been to be nothing more then a big brother, and Sam would be damned if he took anything more from the older man. Dean had given so much, but Sam would not let him give it all. And so, he gathered every ounce of strength he had and called out for his brother.

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Dean struggled through the sometimes waist deep snow, his knee clicking and locking, eyes still strangely blurry, mind racing. He knew Sam was around there somewhere, he could feel him, and he knew he didn't have much time. He had long since dispatched of his remaining crutch, the offending object succeeding in nothing other then slowing the determined hunter down. His brother was in danger, and he was going to get to him as quick as he could, even if that meant he had to crawl. Sam was his responsibility, his purpose, his legacy. He had raised him, watched out for him all his life, pulled him twice from a burning home. The young man had a future, had a reason for being here, and Dean would be damned if he was going to let his little brother's life end here.

He nearly fell over in relief when he finally made it to the first of the many cabins, the structure much larger then what Dean had been expecting, the buildings not so much cabins as summer homes. The tired hunter cursed as he entered the first of the houses, the interior nearly as cold as the forest beyond the doors. Everything was taking too long, his brother was somewhere near by, so close to him he felt he could almost reach out to grab him and he knew he had to think fast, had to get to Sam sooner rather then later.

"Screw it." He mumbled, his brother's life more important then the element of surprise. "SAM!" Dean called, his body aching as his voice thundered around the house. "HEY, UGLY SHADOW GUY!" He called again, but was once again met by silence. "Nope, not here." He shrugged as he maneuvered himself back to the porch, the other buildings all thankfully within shouting distance. "SAM!" He called again, tightening his grip on the shotgun. "YOU BETTER LET MY BROTHER ANSWER ME YOU DEMONIC SON OF A BITCH!"

_"How do you know he is still alive?"_ An icy voice echoed back, carried to his ears by a sudden, freezing wind. Dean couldn't help but shutter as the memories of Shadow Pine Highway rolled back into his mind. He had almost died then, and he knew that if it weren't for his father, he would have. He needed his dad more then he ever admitted, needed the comfort of having the older man looking out for him. Yes, John was capable of making the same mistakes as Dean, but the younger man really didn't care. After all, John was his dad, he could fix everything, fight everything, and protect both he and Sam better then anyone else on the planet. He needed that security, but he also needed to prove to himself that he could hunt without his father, that he was worthy to say that he had been trained by John Winchester. He needed to be able to save Sam on his own.

"I would know if he were, I would feel it."

_"Oh, Dean. So defiant in your uncertainty. I know what you are thinking."_

"So do I."

_"Clever. Why don't you come save your brother then."_

"Why don't you tell me where he is."

_"That isn't really hunting now, is it?"_

"I won't tell if you don't."

"DEAN!" Sam's voice suddenly erupted into the silence of the clearing, the sound nothing short of amazing to Dean's ears.

"SAM!" He yelled back, his instincts taking over as he strained to find the cabin from which Sam's voice had echoed.

"DEAN! RUN! TRAP! GET AWAY!"

"LIKE HELL, SAM."

Sam laid on his back, body shaking from the exertion, his throat raw, breathing labored as he called out again to his brother, again warning him to stay away. "Stupid stubborn bastard." He mumbled. "JERK!"

"BITCH!"

'_Oh god_' Sam thought, this wasn't getting them anywhere.

"MARCO?" Sam let out a frustrated sigh as Dean continued to call for him, he really was trying his patients.

"DEAN!"

"You're supposed to say, 'polo'." Dean chided as he pushed open the cabin door, immediately running over to his little brother's side. Sam looked horrible, his skin was cool and gray and his eyes were more dull then the older man had ever remembered seeing him. He scooped Sam quickly into his arms, his brother's lanky frame shaking uncontrollably as Dean wrapped him in his jacket. He pulled his little brother closer, resting his chin against Sam's forehead as he rubbed his back and arms, trying to bring even the slightest bit of warmth to the young man's freezing body.

"Oh god, Sammy. Say something to me, man."

"Polo." Sam mumbled weakly, his face breaking into a tired smile as he leaned further into his brother's arms, searching for any warmth he could find.

"You never were very good at that game."

"You cheated."

"I would never."

"Never what, not cheat."

"You don't need to cheat when your brother sucks at the game."

"Hey, Dean. Thanks." Sam mumbled as his eyes began to fall closed. He could feel the Asura growing, pulling strength from his body as he felt its cold hands running over him once more, tracing the areas his brother had just tried to warm. It was around him, with him, and he didn't think he could fight it anymore.

"For what?"

"You know, being my brother."

"Don't, Sam." Dean snapped holding onto Sam as though he would lose his entire world if he let go. This couldn't be happening, not now, his little brother could not die after he found him. He was supposed to protect him, to watch out for him, to keep him safe. He wasn't supposed to let him die in his arms, wasn't supposed to fail him, that wasn't allowed. Sam was all that he was and all that he would ever be, without him, Dean would cease to exist.

"Dean, listen to me."

"No." Dean bit out, his voice cracking, eyes watering. He could feel Sam falling further against his chest as his strength waned, the younger man's weight completely supported in his arms. He was fading, and the only thing Dean could do was pull him closer, as though the simple act of holding him would keep him alive.

"I can feel it, its coming back."

"The Asura?"

"Whatever happens, whatever it says, don't do anything stupid."

"Sammy, I am not going to let you die here, no matter what."

"Dean, please, just this once please let me go. Please."

"You know I cant."

"I told him you would say that." Dean's head snapped up at the sound of the icy and hollow voice. He pulled Sam closer still as he stared up into the gray eyes of the Asura, the figure standing before him just as it had done all those months ago. He could feel Sam growing colder by the minute, the shadow smiling as the younger man's breathing grew ragged and forced, the demon choking him as it stole away everything he had.

"Leave him alone."

"But, if I were to release him, he would die."

"What?"

"My power is what's keeping that boy breathing, making his heart beat. Without me he would be gone."

"What do you want?"

"I want to make a deal. Your brother there, he wouldn't accept it."

"Good."

"But I figured you might."

"Well, you figured wrong."

"Then your brother will die."

"I can get him out of here in time."

"No, you can't. You have been too late for hours. Pity really. That boy, he had such faith in you, such trust. He kept telling me that you would be here in time, save him. But, well, I guess he was wrong."

"Shut up. I'm here for him, I'll help him."

"You'll comfort him while he dies."

Dean couldn't answer, couldn't speak as he looked down once more at his baby brother, Sam looking back up at him with tear filled eyes, silently willing his brother to leave him, to be safe, to move on. Silently telling his big brother that he was ready to let go.

"You know I can save him."

"What's the deal?"

"Dean, no."

"I can give your brother the perfect life. A safe home with Jessica and a family, everything he has wanted, dreamed of. I can bring her back, and I can save him, return two lost souls to this world."

"What do you get?"

"You. Not for eternity, just as long as you are alive."

"Can I still be with my brother?"

"No. You will not be a part of that world, just as you were not a part of his life at Stanford."

"And you promise he will be fine?"

"Yes."

"Dean. Stop it. I won't let you." Sam choked as he struggled in his brother's arms, trying with all his might to push away the shadows that were slowly over taking him. He had to fight it, had to keep it away from Dean, had to protect his brother. He couldn't let Dean die for him, couldn't let him be forgotten, be alone. No, he had done that once and it was a mistake, and he swore the night of the accident, the night the Demon nearly ripped his brother to shreds, that it would never happen again.

But Sam was no match for his brother, his strength all but spent as he looked up into moss green eyes, and listened to his larger then life brother, his hero, say good bye.

"I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean whispered as he ran a hand through his brother's hair, taking one more look at him, knowing that Sam would have a life, be free of all this. "Ok."

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

_hello. i just want to again thank everyone for the wonderful reviews, thank you so much for taking the time to read my stories. i hope you are all enjoying them. _

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 15

The cold darkness that suddenly encased him was something he had wished he would never have to feel again. It was just as awful, just as powerful and overwhelming as it had been before. Everything came rushing back to him in a flood of fury. He could feel himself in the forest once more, the cold ground swallowing him as the deep sky above began to fall in. The shadows were once again within him, stealing his breath, stilling his heart. He wanted to scream, to call out for help, for release. But he found his voice gone, breath frozen as the darkness wrapped itself further around his freezing and failing body.

He could feel Sam struggling in his arms, his body warm and heavy. He tried to hold tighter to his little brother, tried to keep some sense of the world, some feeling with him besides the darkness, but he could feel the younger man slipping away, falling slowly into the world Dean had won for him. And so, he tried instead to let him go, to give him away to the life he deserved, the life he wanted, the life that was far more important than his own.

Sam struggled, his arms wrapping further around his brother as he felt Dean's grip begin to slip. He was growing more and more terrified by the minute as he held onto his brother with everything he had, fighting desperately to give some of his strength to the ailing man. He knew the bargain was a lie, knew the demon had no way of bringing Jessica back, of giving him the life he had been longing for. They had been played, plain and simple, and Dean was going to lose his life because of it.

The Asura knew them, understood their relationship, studied their actions. It knew what they would chose, knew what would make them both weak and what would make them strong. It had wanted Dean all along, ever since they were small children it had been searching for him, longing for him, and it knew to use Sam to get what it wanted. It had watched them, sensed them for twenty four years, Dean marked by the fire as well as Sam. The older boy's bottled up emotions, his strength, both in body and soul, had been like a beacon to the Asura, his strong will shinning out across the country, drawing the demon ever closer.

But Sam wouldn't let it win, wouldn't let it steal away the most important thing in his life, the only thing that had kept him going these past twenty four years. No, Dean had lost enough, given enough away to save the world around him. It was time someone gave something up for him. And so the younger man gathered all the strength he could and shifted away from his brother, pulling himself to his knees as Dean fell weaker still. It was now or never.

Sam reached out to his brother's left ankle, hoping to god that Dean had come in prepared. He nearly cried out in relief when his hand grasped the cold handle of the knife. He knew what he had to do, no matter what the consequences he had to save his brother, had to keep him safe. Dean was a light in an ever darkening world, a soldier in a war that few were equipped to fight. He was important, far more important then he would ever know. And Sam was going to see to it that he would make it to that war, that his proud soul would not be lost in one of the battles.

Ever since the incident in the shadow forest John had insisted that the brothers bless their weapons. It wasn't much, but at least it would add a little more protection, another, all be it, small barrier between his boys and the darkness, and at that moment Sam had never been happier that Dean had obeyed the order. He pulled the knife quickly from the holster, his tired body fumbling with the straps. He could feel Dean beginning to pitch forward, his cool skin turning a shade of pale gray, head falling down onto Sam's shoulder as he began to shake violently.

The shadow was bringing the older hunter's body to its limits, forcing it to nearly shut down as it drew power from him, robbed him of everything that he was, that he had been. Dean didn't crack jokes, didn't fight back, didn't even hum Metallica. Instead he fell forward into his brother, Sam trying awkwardly to break his fall as they slumped to the ground together. Sam's mind suddenly went blank, his heart aching with the truth of his imminent actions. Even if he did get rid of the Asura, it was probably too late for both of them. But at least, Sam though, neither brother would have to bury the other, they would just whisper out of this world together, the same way they had disappeared down dusty roads.

The demon stood there, mocking them, its face twisted into a devilish smirk, eyes shinning a chilling gray as it stared down at Sam. Dean shifted and moaned in the younger man's arms, his face contorted in pain, his soul trapped somewhere within his failing body. Sam pulled him closer as his brother's freezing body was suddenly racked by an intense tremor, his eyes fluttering and face paling as he tried in vein to fight off the siege.

Sam fought to remain calm as he continued to kneel on the floor, his brother's body propped up against his chest. He had brought this on Dean, both their fates being chosen for them twenty four years ago. But, then again, the youngest Winchester did not believe in fate, not anymore. He had seen too much, changed to much to believe that life was a path already laid. Yes, the demon had marked him decades ago, and yes, his father had raised him to be a hunter, to be what he was 'born' to be. But he had escaped all that, had left it behind for years. He had fallen in love, gone to school, been normal. And, even though it had been taken away from him, sending him back to his 'destiny', he had still fought, won, and escaped. And he knew that he would do it all over again. He would not let his so called fate be the death of his brother, he was tired of being a puppet in his own life. He was a grown man, and the world had no idea just what Sam Winchester could do.

"I can end his suffering." The demon spoke condescendingly as its eyes bored into Sam, forcing their way back into his soul. "I could end both your suffering."

"You lied to him, you can't give me anything you promised." Sam spoke quietly, the venom in his voice slicing through the air like razors, his eyes never leaving Dean.

"Its not my fault he made a deal with a demon. He should have known better."

"You knew he would."

"Its called knowing your enemy. You two should really try that sometime."

"I can still fight you."

"Why prolong the inevitable when you have the chance to end it?"

"It's not inevitable."

"He's going to die, and there's no way you can stop it. He may not die today or even tomorrow, but someday he will. After all, he has died, twice, but you and your father just can't seem to let him rest."

"Its not his time."

"You know that's a lie."

"I don't care. I won't let him go yet, I won't let him leave this soon."

"He'll be at peace."

"Yeah right, I don't trust you for a minute."

"Oh, Sammy, I'm hurt."

"Don't call me that."

"Why, because its something only your big, bad older brother can do? A privilege only your protector can have?"

Sam didn't answer, only glared at the monstrosity before him, unconsciously tightening his one armed grip on Dean as he continued to hold his right arm behind him, effectively concealing the blessed knife. He would not let him go, ever. He had done it once and it was the biggest mistake of his life. He looked down once more, agony written all over Dean's strong face and he knew what he had to do, consequences be damned.

"He's tired, broken. It's selfish to keep him around."

"Well then, I guess I'm selfish." Sam answered defiantly, pulling the large knife from his back, slicing deep into his own left arm, the movement so quick and precise that the Asura didn't even have a chance to react.

Dean wished for nothing more then the cool comfort of death, the icy grip around his body hugging him like waves of fire, burning him, branding him. He knew he was falling, knew he was finally losing, that he would be leaving Sam, leaving everything behind, that he would be alone. But, if asked to make the choice again he would chose the same path, Sammy always came first, and nothing in heaven or hell would ever change that. Dean was a big brother, and that was what he would remain until his dying breath.

An earsplitting screeched echoed through the choking air, the darkness shattering as a sudden light flooded into his blinded eyes. Dean wanted to cry out, to cover his ears as the bone rattling scream continued. The sound was blistering and he was sure that his eardrums had burst as his entire mind began to fill with a deep hum, a sound so clear and crisp that he could feel it rebounding off his bones, beating fiercely against his own heart. And the moaning, it was so awful, so gut wrenching that Dean could actually feel physical pain radiating from the sound alone. And, at that moment, he was sure that his entire world was ending.

But, just as suddenly as it started, the screeching died away, being replaced instead by an icy gale. Dean could feel it racing around him, through him, the wind driving deep down into his bones with its force. He could feel warmth returning, sensation flowing through his body once more, his tired mind racing as the world around him began to shift into focus. And, mixed into the torrent, nearly drowned out by it all, was Sam's heartbeat, his little brother's arms wrapped tightly around him, holding him, protecting him, as both brother's finally lost out to the ever darkening void.

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

_hello everyone. first of all, i just want to say that i am so very sorry for the long delay. my holidays were very busy and on top of things i have also been sick, not to mention the fact that this site doesnt seem to work right anymore. i am posting this with notepad because, for some reason, the site no longer accepts documents from wordpad and i dont have microsoft works._

_thank you again to everyone for your wonderful reviews and for sticking with my stories. this one is near its end. _

D: i dont own anything, just having fun.

BY THE WAYSIDE

Chapter 16

He could feel oblivion pushing at him from all sides, the cold darkness seeping deep into his bones, his body crying out for release, for refuge. He knew that he was falling, could feel the sweet nothingness reaching for him, pulling him, taking him away from all the pain, all the stress, everything about life that made it so god awful hard. But he knew he couldn't let himself go, couldn't let the darkness take him so easily, couldn't leave the world so quickly.

The Asura was gone, he just knew, the moment his mind began to focus, that the terrible thing was finally gone. For the first time in five months he could feel a sort of happiness returning to him, the icy hands the had once gripped his soul had pulled away, letting in all the emotions he had not realized he'd lost. He felt grief and pain, but also felt a strength, an energy the had been absent for so long, that he wondered how he had ever lived without it. It was like coming up for air after falling into icy water, his mind clearing with the coming light. And he welcomed it.

The body beside him was startlingly cold, so much so that he swore he could feel it radiating from him, bringing the temperature of the room down with it. He tried to push himself up, tried to move towards his brother but the darkness was too much, his body too heavy. But he knew he had to fight, a dread growing deep within him as the minutes ticked slowly by. His brother was so cold, so still, so silent, and no amount of darkness would keep him from his side. He couldn't let him be gone, couldn't let him freeze to death alone, couldn't let his soul whisper away without at least saying good-bye.

"Sam." Dean began quietly, his voice nothing more then a faint breath, not even loud enough to be called a whisper. He was so tired, his body, though free of the Asura, was still slipping into a peaceful darkness. He gathered up every last bit of energy he could find and slowly pushed his tired eyes open, the sight before him stealing away what little breath he had in him.

Sam was laying by his side, his cold skin a sickening shade of gray, body completely still. Dean could feel what little strength he had fail as he looked over at the lifeless body of his little brother, deep crimson blood flowing freely from his left arm. The older Winchester was overwhelmed by the nauseating sent of his brother's blood as it ran over him, Sam's arm still draped limply over Dean's shivering body.

"Sammy." Dean whispered again, his tired voice breaking as he fought back the tears that were threatening his vision. '_This can't be happening. This can't be real.'_ Dean told himself over and over again as he reached a shaky hand forward, fingers running over his little brother's clammy skin, searching his neck. '_He had to be alive. Life wouldn't be that cruel._' Fate would not leave him to face this world alone, it couldn't. Dean Winchester could do many things, but being alone was not one of them. He needed Sam, needed him to be by his side, to be his brother, to be his reason for living. Without Sam, there was no Dean.

The older man cried out in relief when he finally felt the too light beating of his brother's heart, Sam's breaths coming to him in shallow, shuttered gasps. Dean pulled off his jacket and outer shirt, adrenaline pushing him on. He tore the shirt into strips, wrapping Sam's arm as gently as he could before he pulled the younger man up against his chest, covering him with his jacket as he slowly rubbed his chest, trying to bring even the slightest bit of warmth back into his body. The demon had been protecting him from the elements, keeping him going when any normal human being would have dropped, but now everything was flooding back into the battered hunter, the effects of hypothermia hitting the young man in rapid secession.

Dean looked quickly around the empty room, the door still wide open, curtains blowing in the unhealthy winter wind. He knew he had to get his little brother to safety, had to find some way to warm him before his organs began to shut down. He fought to stand as he held onto his little brother, his own body beginning to shake as the winds assaulted his exposed skin, but he couldn't stop, he wouldn't. He staggered a few feet, his brother's dead weight too much for his injured body to handle, knee locking, vision swimming as he fell to the floor.

"Son of a bitch."

"Dean." Sam's voice was barely audible, the word disappearing soon after it left his lips, but, to Dean, it was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

"Sam!" Dean began as he watched his brother struggle to consciousness, his eyes fluttering lightly before they finally opened. "Oh, thank god."

"Dean?"

"It's ok, Sam. You're gonna be ok."

"You?"

"Me what?"

"Ok?"

"Yeah, Sam, I'm fine."

"Good, sleep." The younger Winchester mumbled as his eyes slowly slid shut once more.

"No, no, no. Sammy, you gotta stay awake. You hear me? You gotta keep your eyes open." Dean nearly panicked as he tapped Sam's cheek.

"I'm so tired.

"You can sleep later, I promise. After we get back to the motel."

"I'm cold."

"I know." Dean spoke quietly as he wrapped his jacket tighter around Sam. "Do you think you can walk?"

"No."

"Do you think you can try?"

"No."

"Come on, Sammy. Help me out a little."

"Get Dad to do it."

"He's not here, Sam."

"You suck." Sam began as he tired to pull himself to his feet, his weak body leaning heavily on Dean as the two struggled to stand. The brother's took a few clumsy steps before falling once more to the floor, both panting as though they had run a mile.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam?"

"We're gonna die here, aren't we?"

"No! We'll be fine, Sam. I'll find away out of this."

"I saved you." Sam mumbled as he turned his head, unfocused brown eyes burning deep into his brother, his face shinning with triumph and delirium.

"How? How'd you get rid of it?" Dean asked, as he looked up to the ceiling, his brother's deep, loving stare to much for him to take. Sam looked like a small child, curled up on his side, innocent eyes watching his big brother, his hero. And, to Dean, it seemed like no time had passed, seemed as though they were still two small children, two people the world had yet to destroy. It wasn't fair, this world had stolen so much from them, had left them alone, lost in the mountains, dying. And, at that moment, Dean wondered just how many people would miss them once they were gone.

"Blessed blade." Sam answered groggily, holding up his injured arm. "Asura was bound to me, I blessed my blood, destroyed it."

"Wasn't it in me too?"

"Nope, Joshua blessed your blood. It would feed off of you, but not be bound to you. Dad's idea, really."

"Good thinking, Sam."

"You're welcome."

"Hey, Sam."

"Yeah?"

"Bless you."

"Shut up, Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Ed! Ed! I think I found them." The voice echoed in from the cold as both brother's fought to stay within the waking world, their senses slowly slipping away as their bodies began to fail.

"Oh, damn it." Dean stated evenly. "I think I'm going to hell, Sammy."

"Stop taking me with you."

"Dean? Sam?"

"Harry?" Sam called out as he rolled around to face the door, his eyes growing heavier with each passing moment.

"Yeah! Sam! Holy crap." Harry skidded into the room out of breath, his eyes growing wide at the sight of the brother's, right hand wrapped around a shotgun.

Sam had to suppress a smile at the sight of the wayward geek wielding a weapon, the gun looking so out of place in the smaller man's hands as Ed skidded into the room behind him. The younger Winchester never thought there would be a day that he would be happy to see the Hell Hounds, the two having spent much of the past few months making his life a living hell. But now, suddenly, here they were, the only people around that even knew they were there, the only people around that could save them. And, honestly, Sam felt a little embarrassed by that, after all, how do you live down being saved by the Hell Hounds.

"How am I gonna live this down." Dean's mumbled voice channeled Sam's thoughts as Ed pulled him to his feet.

"You're welcome." Ed answered breathlessly, shifting Dean's weight around as he turned to the door. Harry followed suit, the small man pulling Sam to his feet, the young hunter's tall frame completely dwarfing the man at his side. But, surprisingly, neither complained nor gloated, just continued on with the brother's, heading away from the cabin and back towards their cars.

666666666666666666666666

"Hey." Dean began as the four slipped and slid their way back down the mountain road, the snow still falling as the night grew heavy and still, the brothers' bodies shaking in the cold. Neither one had been prepared for a prolonged stay in the Montana wilderness, both boys clad only in jeans and t-shirts, Dean's jacket now draped around his hypothermic brother. It was a race against time, and Dean couldn't shake the feeling that they were losing. "How did you two find us?"

"Well, most bad guys like secluded places, so we just drove up the highway and checked everywhere." Harry answered quietly, Sam's heavy body pressing down on his slight frame.

"But why?"

"Because we're back up." Ed stated evenly, as though it should have been a well known fact. "You said it almost killed you last time. So, we figured you might need a little help."

"Are you gonna hit me again?" Harry asked sheepishly as Sam slowly began to lift his head, his eyes shifting in and out of focus as he scanned the forest around them. Something was up, something was there, he could feel it, and he didn't like it. They were almost unarmed and there was no way they could fight. And, suddenly, Sam felt very, very exposed, like a doomed animal wandering into a hunter's crosshairs.

"Not right now." Dean tried to joke, his breath catching as his knee buckled once more, nearly pulling both he and Ed to the ground. "You're still rescuing us."

"You could at least say thank you." Ed crumbled as he pulled Dean up, helping take more weight off his injured leg.

"That's not something I just walk around saying, you know."

"I've noticed."

"We've gotta go, now!" Sam suddenly broke in, his body surging on with an energy he should not have possessed, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"What it is?" Dean asked nervously, suddenly feeling completely alone in the darkening forest.

"GET DOWN!" Sam shouted, the air around them suddenly alive with the sound of gunfire, the heavy silence of the forest shattering like glass.

"Who the hell is shooting at us?" Harry asked as he covered his head, his shotgun all but forgotten at his side.

"Oh, god damn it." Dean mumbled as he rolled onto his back, taking a deep breath before calling out. "SAM! STOP SHOOTING AT ME!"

"Dude, I'm right here."

"Not you, I'll explain later."

"WHERE'S MY BROTHER?" A voice called back, a voice that was unmistakably Sam's.

"Dean? Why the hell is there another me?"

"Is that the tulpa?" Ed asked in amazement as he began to stand, wanting a better look at his creation. Another bullet ricocheted through the air, missing the hapless filmmaker by inches as Dean pulled him back to the ground.

"Don't stand up when stuff's shooting at you."

"Sorry."

"What do you mean 'is that the tulpa'? Why the hell is there a tulpa me?"

"Well, you see, Sammy, that there was plan A."

"What the hell was plan B?"

"Well, I wasn't expecting plan A to be so buckets of crazy. Thanks for that, by the way."

"What are you looking at me for?" Ed asked indignantly, still trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive creature.

"I asked you to make it like _him_." Dean stated angrily, motioning towards a very stunned Sam, the younger man still not fully coming to grips with the fact that there was a tulpa version of himself.

"I did. Everything we had on him."

"Yeah, well, last I checked they're not really all that similar."

"How so?" Harry asked curiously, eyes shifting between Sam and Dean.

"How so! He's trying to kill us."

"Well, what did you do?"

"What makes you think I did something?"

"Dean." Sam began sternly, tired eyes turning to his brother. "What the hell did you say to it?"

"Nothing really. I mean, I made one stupid psychic joke and it goes all 'Carrie' on me. Only you two would make a bipolar tulpa."

"Why did you tell it it was psychic?" Ed asked as he helped pull Dean to his knees, knowing it was only a matter of time before the tulpa attacked again.

"I forgot it wasn't really Sam. How was I supposed to know it was crazy?"

"He's psychic?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Oh? What exactly did that web page say about my brother?"

"You didn't read it?"

"Not really."

"Well, he hunts the supernatural, at all costs."

"What!" Sam chimed in as the four began to half crawl, half slide their way down the slope, hiding themselves as best they could in the dense forest, the two cars drawing ever nearer.

"So it's psycho Sammy." Dean chimed in again.

"Don't you guys hunt, no matter what?" Harry asked.

"No! Only the stuff that deserves it. We're not murderers."

"Well, it was your brother's idea in the first place."

"Look." Ed broke in, knowing that now was not the time for a philosophical discussion. "The cars are only about a hundred meters away. Lets just get there and figure this all out another day."

"No, we cant."

"Why not?"

"Because, it probably set a trap, you know, it wants us to get to the cars."

"Why do you think that?" Dean shot back, his anger growing with the pain in his body, he couldn't believe that he had forgotten about the tulpa.

"Because it's me, and that's what I would do."

"No, Sam, we just established that it is not you. It's an imagined, Rambo version of you that's trying to kill us. It won't think like you because it doesn't know anything about you."

"Oh god." Sam began rubbing his temples as he stumbled on. "I have a headache."

"Is it a vision?"

"No, it's a brother."

"Can we focus here? We need a plan."

"Well, what does that thing want?" Ed asked as they stopped, Sam taking the shotgun from Harry as he leaned back again a tree, eyes scanning the shadows.

"Its brother."

"You're its brother."

"No, I'm the bad guy that called it psychic and made it go all nutso."

"We could go out and, you know, calm it down." Ed stuttered out as Harry looked down at his shoes, both men looking like small children that had just been scolded.

"Why would it listen to you?" Dean asked not really wanting to know the answer.

"Uh, well."

"Spit it out."

"It might, for some reason, think that we're its partners."

"You didn't."

"Hey, I was trying to write compelling screen plays."

"Are you kidding me. That thing out there thinks you guys are hunters. Oh man, this just keeps getting better."

"So." Sam chimed in, his eyes slowly sliding closed as he spoke, his lips a frightening shade of blue. "What are you gonna do after you distract it?"

"One of you guys can shoot it."

"Kill it?"

"Yeah. That was the plan all along."

Sam looked over at his brother as though he himself had just been shot. Dean had purposefully made a tulpa that was just like him, another brother in a way, and when he was done with it he was simply going to kill it, end of story. And Sam, for the first time in his life, was afraid of his brother. He knew he had no reason to be, knew that the thing in the woods was not human, didn't have a soul, shouldn't be alive; but it still all seemed so completely wrong. After all, for all intents and purposes it was Sam. And Dean was just going to look his little brother in the eye and shoot him dead.

"Look." Dean's voice broke through Sam's consciousness like a sledge hammer, the younger man's mind focusing on the sound, tired eyes staring straight through him. He could see fear in those deep green eyes, fear and fatigue. This life was taking its toll on him, aging him faster then time ever could. They could have both been so much more, both been happy, instead of fighting for their lives on a desolate snow covered highway. "We don't have time to discuss how right or wrong I was. Let's just get this over with."

Ed and Harry looked as though they were being sent to the firing squad as they slowly stood above the brothers, Sam and Dean poised and ready to take down the tulpa. "HEY!" Ed called. "SAM, YOU OUT THERE?"

"ED?"

"YEAH." He continued to call as he stepped out into a small clearing, his voice shaking as he addressed the tulpa. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Right here." Ed nearly screamed when the creature came up behind him, its voice familiar, but still so very hollow, almost as though he were speaking to a ghost. He turned quickly, stifling another scream as he looked into the monster's eyes, dead, slate gray orbs shinning back.

"You scared the hell out of me."

"What are you doing here?" The Tulpa asked, eyes still searching the clearing.

"We found, Dean." Harry chimed in, finally finding his voice.

"What? Where? Is he ok?" The Tulpa asked anxiously, dead eyes boring into the Hell Hounds.

"At the hospital, he's hurt pretty bad. Where have you been?"

"It tricked me." The Tulpa began absently, its voice strangled and sad, tall frame slouching, failure evident in its eyes. Its brother was hurt, and he was not there to help him. "I thought it was Dean, it lured me out here. I knew it did something to him."

"We can look for it later, right now you need to get back to your brother."

"Is he ok?"

Dean could feel his heart breaking as he listened to the Tulpa's defeated voice, the sound wavering as the creature deflated. It thought he was hurt, feared he was lost, and Dean suddenly found his grip on the gun loosening. It was so much like Sam, so human, so broken, and he knew he would never be able to kill it. It loved him, cared for him just as much as his real brother did, and he suddenly understood what a mistake he had made.

He should have known that he never would have been able to kill his own brother, to end a life so much like Sam, no matter what it was that was living that life. Yes, the Tulpa shouldn't be walking this earth, and yes, it was just a matter of time before it killed someone, but still, it was Sam, it was his baby brother.

He had not been expecting the gun shot, the explosion slicing through the still night as the bullet ripped through the Tulpa before him, piercing the thing between the eyes. For what seemed like an eternity Dean sat there, cold and shaking, as he stared at the dead body of the tulpa, the dead body that looked oh so much like Sam. The real Sam sitting beside him, smoking gun still held firmly in his shaking hands.

TBC (site permitting)


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: so, i was posting this somewhere else and decided that the ending needed just a little more. it is only about two more paragraphs, but i decided to repost the final chapter over here as well. **

_thank you everyone for sticking with the story, i hope you all enjoyed it. this chapter is very short, just a little epilogue. _

D: not mine, dont own them.

**BY THE WAYSIDE**

Chapter 17

If the car ride had been unbearably silent then the hours that followed it were downright hell. Sam hadn't spoke, hadn't said a word since he had fired that fatal shot. The echoing burst of the weapons recall was still bouncing through the older Winchester's head, the deafening roar of the quiet room suffocating him. It was as if the entire world had been shattered by that single destructive noise.

Dean sat against the headboard of his bed, throbbing knee wrapped in ice as he watched his brother, studied Sam's still, sleepless form, his pale body barely visible beneath a mound of blankets. He could fix his physical pain, ease his little brother's bodily suffering, but his spirit, his soul, that was another story. Sam had always worn his heart on his sleeve, always been so caring, so loving, and that had always broken his big brother's heart.

The worst part of it all was that he, Dean, was responsible for his brother's suffering, for his silent torment. He had made the tulpa, made another Sam knowing full well that it had to be killed, that it was a monster. And he had never once thought about how that would effect his actual brother, never once considered how it would all seem to Sammy. It had been a monster, a threat to all those around it, a potential killer, a supernatural being that Dean had to destroy. It was, in essence, everything the real Sam feared he might become.

The demon had plans for him, plans that tormented the younger man everyday. Max had been a killer, who's to say that Sam wasn't going to be one too. He was dangerous, and eventually, he feared, he would become another thing his older brother was forced to hunt. And now Dean had gone a brought all those fears crashing into reality, crushing the younger Winchester like a steamroller. Would Dean really hunt him? Would Dean really kill him if their lives ever came to that?

Dean knew the answer was and always would be no. There was nothing in this world, nothing in heaven or hell that would ever make him hurt his brother, that would ever make him see Sam as something less then human. But that still didn't change what he had done. And that damn tulpa had been so much like Sam, that it was mind-boggling. It loved its brother deeply, feared for his safty, feared for it enough to kill.

It was almost like the alternate ending to a story, a glimpse into what might be, what could happen, and it terrified the seasoned hunter. It was his brother, but at the same time it wasn't, and that was something he just couldn't comprehend, couldn't accept. He told himself over and over again that there was no way Sam could turn into that, no way someone like his brother could change so drastically. And then he went and made it happen. The tulpa acted out of love, out of fear for his brother, and that simple fact shook the ground on which Dean stood.

"Sammy?" Dean asked quietly, his voice weak and shaky in the warm stillness of their motel room. The last time they had been there together the Asura had shown itself, thrown Dean across the room and stolen his brother. It seemed surreal to be back, the Hell Hounds having dropped both the brothers and Dean's beloved car off hours before.

It was almost as though they had lived another life in-between, that the past few hours were nothing more then a twisted nightmare. But Dean knew it was real, and that terrified him. His little brother had been taken from him and, even though he had gotten him back in body, he feared that he had lost him forever in soul.

"Sam. Are you ok over there?"

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam's voice was tired, his body aching and sore, but thankfully no longer freezing. Dean had turned up the heat to near sauna levels, wrapping his brother in every blanket the battered old motel owned. It had been close, too close, and Sam knew that without the help of Ed and Harry neither of them be alive right now. They said they owed them one, Dean and Sam said they were even. And, with that the wayward filmmakers had been on their way, their information reluctantly left with the Winchester boys.

But now there was no buffer, no safety net between the brothers and their tattered emotions. They were left alone, again, to face the fall out of what they were forced to be, what the hunt had turned them into. They were falling, crumbling, fading away, and neither one knew how to stop it.

"It wasn't you."

"Yes it was."

"No, Sam, it wasn't. I was a supernatural freak."

"Isn't that what you called me when we left St. Louis?"

"Sam."

"No, Dean. I know what I am, and I know there's nothing I can do to change it. I'm dealing with it."

"There's nothing you have to deal with, as long as I'm..."

"What? As long as you're around nothing bad is gonna happen to me? Last I checked you were sitting right next to me for five months, hell you were standing in the room with me when the thing took over. Bad stuff still happened, Dean, even while you were there."

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"I'm not saying that it's your fault. It's just, you're only human, Dean, and there's only so much you can do."

"I promise I will never let anything bad happen to you. I promise I'll be better. I'll kill this Demon."

"And what if that just opens the flood gates? I can't watch you die for me, I won't. I've lost enough, Dean. I can't lose you too."

"You wont."

"You can't promise me that."

"No, I can't. But that doesn't mean that I wont."

The room fell silent once more, neither brother knowing exactly what to say next. They weren't naive children, weren't wishing for some bizarrely happy ending to find them. They knew full well what the hunt could and would do to them and neither one knew how to accept that. They were playing in the big leagues now, and they were sorely outnumbered. But, then again, they were the Winchesters, and the world had yet to see just what they were capable of.

_i love the idea of a war brewing between the yellow eyed demon and the hunting world, and i absolutly love the direction the second season is going. i cant help myself. i love epics. i think the Winchester brother's are fantastic characters with such great possiblities. i cant wait to see what is going to happen next. _


End file.
